


The Mummy: Curse of the Seven Scorpions

by Jac_Danvers



Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Returns (2001), The Mummy Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Legends, Romance, egyptian mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 14:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 81,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jac_Danvers/pseuds/Jac_Danvers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Libby O'Connell hasn't heard from her brother in years. The word mummy meant nothing to her. But when a tiny gold scorpion is revealed to have much greater value, she is thrust back into her family's life, and the life of a man she once hated. Jon/OC</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Lucky Box

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own The Mummy. Wish I did though! Libby O'Connell and Davey are characters of my creation.

**Prologue:**

**The Lucky Box**

**Cairo** **, 1924**

 

Libby O’Connell stared intently at the cards she’d been dealt, running a hand through her shoulder-length brown hair. A ten of clubs and a six of diamonds- sixteen total, it could go either way. Her toe tapped nervously under the table, just strong enough that her opponents could see the shake of the table. Let them think she was nervous. From her left, Davey gave her two quick nods, indicating that the cocky young American’s flipped card was a six. That gave him fifteen.

It was close, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

“Don’t let that little girl get the best of you Henderson!” another American with glasses joked, slapping her opponent on the shoulder. The three men laughed raucously, tossing back their drinks with lighthearted ease.

Lighting a cigarette, Libby feigned concern over her cards. Eyebrows knitted, fingers twisting in her hair- the little actions she’d learned over her years were a clear sign that the hand was bad and the game was over.

It always fooled the best of them. Blackjack was her game. Well- not exactly. Cheating money out of foreign adventurers in cheap bars with dubious reputations was her game, with pick-pocketing small, valuable artifacts being a helpful side venture. With her partner Davey, a runaway of Italian descent and her best friend, dealing an ever-so-slightly rigged deck of cards, the gamblers of the world were clay in her hands. Small for her age at seventeen, and with features just plain enough not to stand out in a crowd, Libby got by easily in the Cairo underworld.

“What can I do ya for, buddy?” Davey drawled. “Hit or stay?”

Biting her lip, she stared down Henderson. _Come on you idiot. Hit. Hit, hit, hit._

The American smirked. He’d already lost fifty pounds, and judging by the look on his face, he was under the assumption he was about to win half that sum back. “Double down, little girl.”

Well. She hadn’t expected that.

She looked at Davey, her face in shock. How far down in the deck had he arranged the cards? He shrugged nonchalantly, just enough to let her know that he had her covered. She held in her sigh of relief. Davey placed a card in front of each player, giving her a wink as he slipped an ace out of his sleeve.

“God damn!” she heard Henderson mutter, revealing his hand to be twenty-four.

“I believe I win then?” she asked sweetly, flipping her cards over. He reluctantly handed her another fifty pounds. Relief flooded her. For a moment she thought a whole night’s profit was about to be lost.

“Up for another round?” Libby asked.

“Hell little girl, you think I’m an idiot? I’m leavin’ while I have enough to get me back to the states!” Despite his annoyance, he tipped his cowboy hat respectfully, grabbed his drink, and led the trio away from the table.

“Aww Jake,” the third man in the party laughed as they walked away. “You could have kept playin’! With what we got, we’re goin’ back to the U-S-of-A rich men!” 

“Yeah, yeah, say that when you’re getting your ass kicked by a little girl!” Paying their tab, the Americans exited the bar, likely heading back to their hotel.

 

 OOO

 

As the bar door closed, Libby let out a whoop of excitement. “You did well, kiddo,” Davey complimented her, leaning against the bar and accepting a bottle of local beer. It was true- their earnings were almost double what they normally brought in, enough for a couple of meals and a little to spare.

“You too, Davey. Lord knows I couldn’t do this if you weren’t feeding me the numbers. And we have luck on our side!”

From the pocket of her frayed navy skirt, she pulled a small box. With intricate Egyptian designs lining the sides, the colored paint long faded away, and what looked like a sun carved into the top, the box had withstood thousands of years with no damage. It was made of a golden-colored metal and appeared to be hollow. Libby had tried since childhood to open it up, to no avail.

Davey’s eyes were instantly on the box, though Libby did not notice. “Why do you hold on to that old thing anyways, Libs?” he asked disinterestedly as she tossed the box in the air, caught it, and placed it back into her pocket.

“For my idiot brother,” she replied simply.

“I never understood that. He just up and left the orphanage? Left you just with the box? What’s so special about it?”

“Dunno. Never knew where he got it from either. But it’s the only thing that’s been with me through everything, and I’m still alive. So it must be lucky!” She smiled politely as the bartender handed her a brandy.

“Care of the British gent at the end,” the grizzled, bearded man stated in Arabic, nodding across the bar.

She thanked him with a smile, glancing at the man he’d pointed out. Smirking, the man winked flirtatiously, beckoning her to come over. “That little box may just make this our lucky night, Davey,” she muttered under her breath, passing the drink to her partner. Covertly pointing in the direction of the man, she said, “We got another sucker.”

Carefully pushing through the crowds of men, taking care to avoid wandering hands and eyes, Libby made her way to the man. With a quick look over her shoulder, she took comfort in seeing that Davey was watching her carefully, should anything go awry.

“You play a good game of cards, love,” the man slurred as she approached him. “Showed those blasted Americans a thing or two, didn’t you?”

Libby raised an eyebrow at the young Englishman. Looking to be in his late twenties or early thirties, he was taller than her, with a medium build. His hair was dark brown and swept to the side, his eyes were blue. The smell of stale alcohol overwhelmed her, suggesting he’d been at the bar for some time.

“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. You up for a round or two?”

“The way you played those chaps? I’m not risking my hard-earned liquor money on a hand of cards with you!” He ruffled her hair, almost affectionately. Quickly, she dodged out from under his hand.

 _Richie used to do that…_ Libby thought, missing her brother more than she had in some time. Richie hadn’t come up in her thought- at least, in a positive light- for several years. She was pulled quickly from her reverie by the drunken Englishman stumbling into her.

 _Couldn’t have planned this better myself!_ Helping the man stand back up, she slipped her hand quickly into his back pocket, grabbing his wallet. In a flash, she stowed it away in her own pocket.

“Sorry ‘bout that love. Maybe a bit too much to drink tonight…” he slurred, his hand brushing against her breast as he used her to pull himself up.

“It’s alright. We all have our nights… pervert,” she mumbled under her breath for good measure. She’d had enough experiences with the so-called “gentlemen” that toured Cairo’s seedier night life to know that no glancing touch was accidental.

“I owe you a round of cards… next time…” The drunken Englishman rambled on, seemingly unaware of his surroundings as he swayed towards the door. Apparently his binge had caught up with him.

“I’ll hold you to that!” Libby shouted after him, as he was lost to the dark, humid night.

“What the hell was that?” Davey asked, shoving through the crowds to join her. “He hurt you?”

Libby retrieved the wallet from her pocket, waving it in Davey’s eyes. She started searching the exterior compartments of the wallet as a grin spread across her friend’s face. “No idea. Either he was genuinely impressed by my black jack prowess,” she commented, placing the wallet back into her pocket, “Or he wanted to feel me- the BASTARD!”

Libby’s hand was immediately removed from her pocket, and she slammed her shoulder hard into the bar door as she ran outside. “Come back with my lucky box you Limey bastard!” she screamed into the night, as she started searching side streets for the clever pick-pocket.

 

OOO

 

Sitting in a pile of garbage behind the bar, a stray dog at his feet trying to grab at someone’s rancid, half-eaten meal, the man smiled devilishly. He gently turned the box over in his hands, admiring his night’s work.

“And those Americans think they have their fortune in the bag!” he said to himself victoriously.

The stray dog subsequently realized that his leg would make a better meal than the garbage, and bit down on his foot. Letting out a quiet yelp, Jonathan Carnahan shoved the mutt away. Standing he began making his way back to the couch his younger sister allowed him to sleep on, in the apartment she rented near the Cairo museum.

 

OOO

 

“Jonathan, you told me you got the box on a dig in Thebes!” Evelyn Carnahan shrieked at her older brother in annoyance. The little white lies sprang from his mouth at every turn, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he would _ever_ grow up and become more than the drunken, man-child she’d become responsible for the day their parents died.

“Only, dearest sister, if ‘dig in Thebes’ has become code for ‘bar full of lowlifes,’” he responded with a chuckle, rolling his eyes.

Nearly a month had passed since he’d “obtained” the puzzle box from the card player. Once Evy had gotten the box open and realized that the map lead to Hamunaptra, he began to search Cairo desperately for anyone who would be willing to lead them to the long-forgotten city. After all, it would be morally wrong to let all those potential profits lay there in the desert unclaimed.

And of course it would be a significant archaeological find…

Oh who was he kidding? He wanted to gold.

“And furthermore, why exactly are we at a prison? I thought you said you found us a guide!” As they walked arm-in-arm past the sandstone walls, he realized that as much as he loved his sister, her incessant need to have control drove him mad.

“Evy, I promise you, this man can get us to Hamunaptra! We just need to find a way to get him out of here…”

“A convict, Jonathan? Our guide is a _convict?_ ” Now Evy was squealing, her tanned face turning bright red, and not from standing in the sun. “What do you know about him? Jonathan, he could be a thief, or a murderer, or a…”

“I know that he knows where the city is,” Jon replied, ignoring the look of incredulity passing over her face. “Could you just trust me this once?”

Four hours and one near-death experience later, Rick O’Connell stood free outside the gates of Cairo prison, the Carnahan siblings at his side.

“Now what makes you two so interested in Hamunaptra?” the rugged man asked, still rubbing his neck where the noose had nearly killed him. With a pointed look at Jonathan, he quickly added, “Besides the gold.”

“Well, you see my brother obtained this puzzle box. It’s nearly four thousand years old, if I’ve dated it correctly. I managed to open it, and inside was a map. It indicates the precise location of the city… well, indicated. It was burned badly.”

Evelyn handed the box over to the American, nervous that it would be the last time she ever saw it. Rick’s brown eyes, she noticed, went wide. Examining the box with almost a tenderness in his eye, he turned it onto the side, the back, over and over- much as Jonathan had the night he obtained it.

“If we could find the lost city,” Evelyn continued quietly “just think of the impact it would have on…”

“Where did you get this,” he asked seriously and quietly, cutting Evelyn off. “And don’t bullshit me.” He was clearly starting at Jonathan as he said this, looking positively deadly.

“From… from an American girl… at a bar. In Cairo. She was hustling blackjack with a boy maybe a year or so older. Slipped it out of her pocket,” Jonathan replied with a  gulp, his stomach churning. He was starting to wonder if saving this convict had been the right idea.

“About sixteen, seventeen? Dark brown hair?”

“That’s right, old boy. Couldn’t have been much older than—“ Jonathan didn’t even see the first come flying at the side of his face, causing him to sprawl onto the dusty ground.

“Bloody hell!” he shouted, cradling his cheek in his hand. “What was that for?”

“The last time I saw this box, it was in the hands of my baby sister. She turned seventeen a month ago.”

Evelyn turned on her heals to face her brother on the ground. “You… are… an… IDIOT!”


	2. To Cairo Again

**Cairo, 1935**

“How is it that we always end up in this bloody place?” Jonathan complained loudly as he lifted his nephew’s heavy suitcase from the trunk of Rick’s car. The sweltering Egyptian sun beat down upon him, beads of sweat gathering at the nape of his neck despite the light clothes he’d wisely dressed in this morning. “Jesus, Alex what’s in here?”

“Books!” the boy called over his shoulder cheerfully as he slammed the car door and scurried past him.

_More like a whole library…_

Evy walked swiftly past her brother, grabbing Alex by the collar as he darted towards a street crowded with people and full of vendors with colorful merchandise. Even his mother’s near-death experience two years before couldn’t quell his interest in the sights and sounds of Egypt.

“There’s a reason we didn’t open the house. We’ll be here for three days, Jonathan. What could possibly happen in three days?” Evelyn smiled brightly as she spoke, handing the car keys to the waiting valet.

In the week preceding their departure, Evy and Rick had received an invitation from the new director of the Cairo museum, requesting their presence at the opening of an exhibit on the influence and importance of the natural world, particularly animals, in ancient Egyptian spiritualism. Although not her area of expertise, Evy was thrilled to visit her old haunting grounds and see the renovations that had recently been completed. Of course, Alex had immediately started begging to come along, never one to miss the chance at visiting his favorite place in the world. Although the eternal lovebirds were ready for a weekend alone, after days of desperate pleas and puppy-dog eyes, they finally acquiesced on the condition that Alex finish his schoolwork prior to their departure. And who was babysitter extraordinaire during this three day expedition?

 _At least this career is doing better than your last one, old chap,_ Jonathan thought with a grimace. Apparently, the appeal of a crack wit, treasure-hunting, bachelor playboy disappeared as a man edged toward forty.

“This coming from the woman who said that no harm ever came from reading a book,” Rick grumbled behind him, removing Evy’s bag from the boot of the car and placing it on the ground. Reaching back in, he pulled out a battered khaki sack that Jonathan immediately recognized and slung it over his shoulder.

“I came prepared this time,” Rick stated, slapping Jonathan hard on the back. The muted bumping and clanging of metal against metal surrounded them.

Straightening himself, Jonathan lifted his shirt just enough to reveal the holster on his belt. “Believe me, old sport, I’ve learned my lesson.”

Rick laughed heartily. “Finally invested some of the dear old liquor money?” They followed Evy toward the glass entryway of the hotel.

“Absolutely not old boy, I still have my liquid courage!” He pulled a silver flask from his pocket, dangling it in front of Ricks face as the scotch sloshed from left to right.

Evelyn turned, hands on her hips, a look of frustration clear on her face. “Honestly you two! We’re taking a nice, relaxing trip to Egypt, not going to war! Rick and I will go to the museum opening, you and Alex will have some sort of nice, safe adventure. No danger. No Medjai. No mummies. Nothing.”

As the entered the building, a young Egyptian woman was fastidiously cleaning the sticky handprints of a half dozen curious children from the windows while busy valets continued to collect the keys and park the cars of the guests arriving behind them. A mix of native Egyptians and European tourists pushed in and out of the doors. Life was certainly busy and bustling at the stately hotel.

It was all so normal. Almost too normal. Rolling his eyes, Jon heaved the bags on his back into a more comfortable position. “Whatever you say, mum. But if Mr. Ardeth Bay comes strolling into this hotel, I swear to you, I am on the first boat out.”

 

OOO

 

The lobby of the Grayson-Stratford Hotel was decorated in a style three decades past its prime, but was elegant and welcoming nonetheless. A large, brightly lit room with dark stained oak walls and forest green furniture greeted the O’Connell family with shouts of anger.

“I am DONE working for that woman!” an older man with graying hair and a wrinkled face shouted gruffly at a figure behind the front desk. The man at the desk, dressed professionally in a gray suit and blue tie, jumped back in surprise, eyes darting around the room in hopes that the shouts had not drawn the attention of any guests in the lobby.

Shoulders slouched and hands held out in an attempt to shush the older man, he stepped out from behind the desk. “Please Mohsen, don’t disturb the guests. If you wish to leave, then go. We no longer require your services.” He spoke softly, the unspoken message urging the other man to leave without a fuss.

“You… you aren’t going to work for that… WOMAN?”

 _Wonder what she did to get his knickers all knotted,_ Jonathan wondered, taking a seat on a floral printed chaise lounge to observe the developing brawl.

“Do not cause a scene, my friend. You may someday need a recommendation from Miss Grayson— ”

Mohsen cut him off, responding in a language Jonathan didn’t recognize. Just from the tone, however, he had a feeling that Mohsen had told the deskman where, exactly, he could put the recommendation.

Jonathan watched as Evy’s eye grew wide, evidently understanding exactly what was said.

“Mum!” Alex whispered loudly. “Mum what did he say? Tell me what he—“

“Absolutely not!” was her curt reply.

“If you don’t leave, I will call the police,” the employee said, remaining calm. He picked up the phone on the desk, slowly moving it to his ear.

“Fine, fine. You stay and work for her. But when women are trying to run the city, don’t come crying to me, Tamir. No good can come from working with this woman, my friend. I should have left when Mr. Grayson did. He knew this place was doomed.”

“Enough!” the man interrupted, his voice cool and irritated. “Take your leave Mohsen. Please let me know if you require anything in your search for a new place of employment.”

With a huff, Mohsen pushed past Rick, whose arms were still laden with bags, and left the hotel. “I am terribly, terribly sorry!” the man at the front desk said, quickly rushing to the foyer and helping Rick with the bags. “I’ve known Mohsen for years, I can’t understand… well, perhaps I can…”

“What, exactly _did_ she do to him?” Jonathan asked with a smirk and a chuckle, a number of hilarious scenarios floating through his head.

“Jon!” Evy gasped, hitting him gently on the back of his head. Shrugging it off, he continued to laugh.

The deskman, on the other hand, looked utterly scandalized. “Miss Eliza Grayson did absolutely nothing wrong! She just took over the hotel from her adoptive father, Michael. He’d had enough of Cairo, has been here since the end of the Great War. As soon as he taught her to run the business, he left for England. She’s been going crazy trying to keep this hotel running ever since, to the detriment of her own health. I’m sure you know now, if you didn’t before, but the men of Egypt do not take kindly to women in the workforce. We’ve been short-staffed for weeks. Please, sir, allow me to take your bag.” His rambling ceased as he attempted to take the khaki gun bag.

“I’ll hold onto this one, thanks,” Rick replied, handing him Evy’s bag instead.

“It’s a pleasure. Now if you’ll just follow me back to the desk, I’ll check you into your rooms, and Kaysar,” he indicated a dark haired young man with a grin on his face and a crisp red bellhop’s uniform, “will bring you up. If you need anything at all during your time here, please just ask for me. My name is Tamir.”

Jonathan quickly checked the family in, as the rooms were in his name, and Tamir handed him the keys to two adjoining rooms. Apologizing once more, he returned to his paperwork, and the family followed Kaysar upstairs.

 

OOO

 

From the sixth-story window of the abandoned building across the street, a shaggy red-haired teenager sat with a pair of binoculars, looking into the window of the Grayson-Stratford hotel. “Bollocks,” he muttered, pulling his leg back in from where it rested on the ledge, reentering the building. “This better be a joke…”

“Anything Charlie?” an older man in his thirties asked as he entered the room.

“ _They_ are here.”

“Who?” he asked, momentarily confused. Running through those who could potentially foil their scheme, he landed on one name. “The O’Connells?”

“Yeah, with their son and another bloke- I think it’s the brother. You see that family enterin’ the room?” Charlie passed the man the binoculars, pointing at the rooms he meant. “They’re gonna be a problem, Davey. Said so yourself.”

The older man looked contemplative, and for a moment, Charlie wondered if something had happened. He seemed frozen, looking at the American family.

“Eliza Grayson is the owner…” Davey spoke softly, lost in thought. He shook his head, apparently coming back to life. “I’ve never heard of her. She should be easy to get out of the way. Kidnap her, lock her in the basement a few hours. We’ll take out the O’Connells if they get in the way, grab what we need, and get out. As long as we have Tefen, Mrs. Chatham can’t possibly be upset.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Charlie replied with a roll of his eyes, fidgeting in the window until he found a comfortable position. Lookout duty waited.

 

OOO

 

“Uncle Jon! Take a look at this!”

As Jonathan fought to remove the key from the door he held open, Alex dodged under his arm and sprinted across the room, making a bee line for the fireplace mantel. Not that Jon needed his nephew to point it out. The moment he entered the spacious hotel room, his eyes were drawn to the exact same thing.

The hotel room was large enough for both men to fit comfortably. There were two beds, with pale blue quilts and several fluffy pillows. A small mahogany table with two chairs sat in front of large windows that overlooked the city. Modern still-life paintings of fruit and tea cups decorated on the walls. A fireplace was opposite the beds, clearly unused in the past few years.

The object of interest, however, was located on the mantelpiece. Small, maybe half the length of his hand, the jeweled scorpion stood, looking ready to pounce. Already, he’d identified an emerald and two rubies, and he was almost entirely certain the body was pure gold.

“Say there,” Jonathan stopped the bellboy as he left. “What’s this over here?”

“Old Mr. Grayson used to collect antiques. Said they have the hotel a more _authentic_ feel.” The boy rolled his eyes, making his feelings on the matter quite clear. “When he left, he gave them to Miss Eliza. She’s taken to selling them, trying to make some extra cash. Will there be anything else sir?”

“No, that’s it.” Jonathan handed the boy a generous tip, and sent him on his way.

 _Now that little beauty is probably worth a fortune,_ Jonathan thought, running a hand across the scorpion. His mind set solely on the potential it held, and he wondered just how much he could take the woman running this hotel for. It was obvious she was desperate- wouldn’t take much to buy it just a wee bit under the market price. Sell it at its actual price, and he might just finally make some headway into buying the nightclub he’d been pondering as a business venture the last few years. With a satisfied smirk, he grabbed the flask out of his pocket and took a sip.

It was empty.

“Alex!”

“Yeah Uncle Jon?”

“Why don’t you go see if there’s anything old and expensive in your parents’ room.”

Alex flew out the door, thrilled to have the opportunity for at least a quasi-adventure. Jonathan followed close behind, his mind set on finding the closest bar to the hotel.


	3. Chance Encounters

“Bloody disgustin!” Alex O’Connell announced to no one in particular, slamming the door to his parents’ room.

Language, Alex!” he heard his mother shout from inside. Ugh. Watching his parents kiss and get all googly-eyed was just too much for one child to bear alone.

Back pressed against the door, he eyed his room across the hallway. He _should_ go back there. But Uncle Jon was gone for the night- likely to the bar, where else did he go? And his parents _were_ suitably distracted, giving him enough time to escape and explore. Books were all well and good, but his books would be returning to England with him. Egypt, on the other hand, would not be.

Easily finding the stairwell, he decided to explore the hotel, knowing that if he left the building (even with the excuse that it was to find his uncle), there would be one less O’Connell returning to England- and not by any mummy’s doing. Besides, if the scorpion in his room was any indication, there should be enough in the hotel to keep him occupied for a while. Climbing two flights of stairs with ease, he exited into the first abandon corridor he found. It was very much the same as the one his room was in, with walls covered in cream-colored wallpaper, mahogany baseboards, and a dark carpet that might once have been dark green, but had turned black with the passage of time and many dusty feet.

 _Locked, locked,_ he thought, testing each door as he wandered the hallway. Taking Uncle Jon’s advice, his mind had settled on finding more artifacts. _Locked, brilliant!_ The door was already wide open, beckoning for him to enter.

Alex quickly took stock of the space from outside. There was no one in the room, although a single light was left on. The bed was made, the carpets clean. An armoire leaned against the wall, heavy and dented from time. Perhaps the maids had just finished. Creeping in closer he sought the mantle, knowing that’s where he’d found the scorpion. And there it was. Though not quite as exciting as in his own room, he distinctly recognized the importance of the ceramic pot. It was quite similar to one his mum had in their library at home. He entered the room, making a move toward the fireplace, when a woman stepped out from behind an armoire.

They both let out a shriek of surprise. Alex hadn’t heard any movement in the room. _Bloody hell… in trouble now…_

“Oh. My. Lord. Where did you come from?” she dropped her dust rag, rubbing her eyes from clear exhaustion. If the dark circles were any indication, she hadn’t slept in quite some time. “Do you need help finding your parents, sweetie?” the woman asked with great concern.

“Lady,” Alex replied. “I’m eleven.”

 

OOO

 

Hand on her heart, Libby willed herself to calm down. She wasn’t normally this jumpy, but running around the hotel day and night had forced her to cut back on sleeping substantially. The only thing keeping her semi-sane at this point was the rare cigarette she snuck in between paying bills and cooking meals.

“Okay, wise-guy. So you’re not lost. Why were you wandering in an empty room then?  You don’t look like the ‘rob a girl blind’ kind of guy.” She gave him a small smile.

The blonde-haired boy hopped onto the bed, and Libby just barely restrained herself from grabbing him. Domestic skills were not, and would never be, her forte, and getting the covers to lie just right on the bed had taken the better part of an hour. _Good lord, I need a house keeper. Or twelve…_

“I’m looking for old stuff. Me and my uncle have this gold scorpion in our room, and he said I should go look for more. My parents are Egyptologist, and I’m gonna be one someday. Why are you here?”

“I own this place.” The boy looked at her, doubtful. “I do, kid.”

“If you’re the owner, why are you cleaning?”

“Cause I spend the better part of my life trying not to run this place into the ground, not that you’d understand the first thing about managing a hotel.”

The boy rolled his eyes as she returned to dusting the armoire. “No I don’t know anything about hotels…” The boy grabbed the clay jar gently off the mantle turning it over in his hands. “But I can tell you this is worth a fortune.” 

Libby nearly dropped the rag against, catching it midair as she instantly became interested in what the boy was saying. She held out a hand. “Eliza Grayson,” she introduced herself. The name slipped easily off her tongue now, though she couldn’t help but feel bitter- Clyde Grayson had been another constant in her life that had up and left. She shouldn’t have been surprised- abandonment seemed to be the running theme in her life. At least he’d left her with something tangible, something that would keep her alive. If she could ever find enough damn staff to keep in from running into the ground, that is.

 “Alex.” He shook her hand. “So how much do you know about Julius Caesar?”

 

OOO

 

Three rooms later, Libby found that she knew quite a bit about Julius Caesar ( _Cleopatra certainly did get around…),_ as well as several dozen oddly-named and slightly incestuous pharaohs and a brief history of four different Nile kingdoms. Not only that, but she rather enjoyed the boy’s stories.

Even though she’d lived in Egypt her entire life, Libby didn’t know the first damn thing about the country. Living on the run, there hadn’t been much time to brush up on her Ramses and Tuts. Currently, Alex was jabbering on about mummies as if he’d talked to several during his short life.

Tossing the dust rag over her shoulder, Libby climbed atop a stool to reach the top of a book shelf. Alex sat at her feet, holding the stool steady. “And in that jar-“ he removed a hand from the stool, gesturing to the respective antique, which was located on a bedside table. “-they’d put your heart and intestines and stuff once you were dead.”

“I HAVE A HUMAN HEART IN THIS ROOM?” She had to grip the wooden shelf for strength at this new detail. What was Clyde thinking, putting the jar in a guest room?

“Well no… sometimes they mummified animals…” Libby looked down to see Alex smirking.

“Well that’s one way to welcome the guests. ‘Here’s your room sir, please take note of the decorative intestines on the bedside table.’”

The boy broke out into a fit of laughter, and Libby couldn’t help but let a true, whole-hearted grin spread across her face. It had been so long since she’d smiled. She liked this kid. Wished she had a friend like him growing up, instead of the so-called friends she’d had.

“Alex!” a British woman’s voice cut through the corridor, the tone slowly inching from annoyed to irritated. “Alexander O—“

“I’m in here mum!” As Libby stepped off the stool, he jumped up and waved his mother into the room. She was a slim, gorgeous woman with long black hair. “Mum, this is Eliza. She owns the hotel.”

The woman moved gracefully into the room, but Libby could tell she was stronger than she looked. “I’m so sorry about this; he’s starting to take after his uncle, unfortunately. He hasn’t been bothering you too much, has he?”

Libby shook her head, tying her shoulder length brown hair back so she had some semblance of professionalism. “Absolutely not! He’s been helping me brush up on my Egyptian history. I’ve been trying to sell all these jars for a while, to keep this place running. It helps to know something about them.”

The older woman looked at her sympathetically. “Yes, Tamir had mentioned you were having some troubles.” Libby could feel the red spreading across her face in embarrasment. How much had that nosy front desk man said? It was always the quiet ones…

“You know, I’m sure Alex probably said this, but I work with antiquities. If you wanted help finding dealers, or museums, I’d be happy to help. I can make sure you get paid fairly and they end up in safe places.”

Libby wasn’t sure if the woman was more concerned with the hotel or the fate of the pieces- she suspected it was the latter- but she wasn’t about to pass up the chance to find buyers. She _needed_ the money. “Thank you, ma’am. I’d appreciate it.”

The woman laughed. “You can call me Evy. No one mum’s me except my brother. We’re in Room 612, stop by any time before Sunday. I’ll be glad to help.”

Libby thanked her again, and the mother and son left the room. One last thought came to her.

Sticking her head out the door she called, “Alex! If you get bored again, come find me. I’d like to hear more about that whole intestine-in-a-jar thing.”

 

OOO

 

Jonathan was shocked when he discovered that the decrepit bar was still standing- it had been on the verge of collapse ten years before, and had somehow managed to survive various and sundry plagues and undead invasions without completely collapsing (though it seemed it might if an errant breeze hit it the wrong way). Taking in his surroundings, he was almost positive that even the pile of garbage he had once hidden from Libby in was the same.

 _Libby O’Connell_ , he thought to himself as he choked down another sifter of cheap, pungent brandy. She was an enigma, a presence he couldn’t quite grasp despite the fact that everything he and his family had experienced the past ten years all directly resulted from their single interaction. After their return from Hamunaptra, Jonathan was more than ready to get back to England, even if Evelyn did insist on bringing that beastly American. The discovery of the gold on their camels ensured they would be living easy and in style for some time. Surprisingly enough- or may unsurprisingly, given the circumstances- it was Evy who insisted that they stay and begin a search for the missing sister.

When it became quite evident that there was no chance of leaving Cairo, Jon had thrown himself into the search. It was a rare era of focus and concentration from him, partly to avoid hearing the whispers and whimpers that came from Rick’s adjoining hotel room when Evelyn would sneak in at night, but mostly because he felt so damn guilty that he’d let Libby get away.

 _Not your fault, old boy_ , he told himself for the umpteenth time. _You didn’t know she was going to be part of the family..._

The search had proved to be an utter failure, and though her name was left at every prefect station and government office, the girl never appeared. After their second misadventure, Jonathan stayed behind under the pretense that he was selling the prize diamond he’d nearly died obtaining. He began the search again, discovering only that, if a girl wanted to disappear in Cairo without a trace, she could and would. Rick had been surprised to learn what Jonathan had been doing upon his return, but after nearly losing Evy at Ahm Shere… well he didn’t really like thinking back on those few moments of terror. All he knew was that, as he closed the book and Evy began to breathe again, he’d finally understood how Rick felt all those years before, when he’d been _this close_ to finding Libby and she vanished before he ever had a chance.

“Bartender!” he called out, shaking his empty glass in the air. Peering around the bar, he hoped for a glimpse of brown hair and playing cards. It was a pipe dream, he could admit that much, but finding this girl was almost becoming an obsession. Hell, it was distracting him from drinking.

Picking up the next brandy he drank it as quickly as the last, feeling satisfied as it burned its way down his throat.

“I tell you, Charlie,” he heard from a table behind him. “It’s true. The fifth scorpion is out in the desert, we know the fourth is in the room. Two left after that. And then, success!”

“I still don’t understand what you need them for…” a second, younger voice chimed in.

“The money, kid. You know it’s about the money.”

 _Bloody adventurers. Another group searching for the Scorpion King? Really?_ Something- and he suspected that something was likely alcohol and ego- told Jonathan he had to set the record straight. He had a hand in defeating the beast and that, most certainly, meant bragging rights.

Sure, Rick had actually killed the thing, but it was Jonathan’s (alright, Izzy’s) golden scepter that did the killing. But little white lies were never really a problem, in his humble opinion. Stumbling over to the table, he threw his arms around the two speakers’ shoulders. “Hello there chaps! Couldn’t help but overhear you chatting about the Scorpion King!”

Neither responded, but they did exchange a secretive glance- one threatening, the other slightly confused. “Well, let me tell you boys, I have seen the actual Scorpion King, and he’s dead now so really—do I know you?”

The man next to him appeared to be in his thirties, but something in his face was distinctly familiar. He had piercing, dark brown eyes and a few gray strands among the thick black hair that covered his head. Wrinkles lined his brow and beneath his eyes, but upon closer look, it was obvious.

The dealer. The boy who had slipped Libby the cards.

“I don’t think so, buddy,” he said clearly, with confidence.

“No, no… I know I do. You used to play blackjack here. With a girl, Libby. Listen quick, can you tell me where she is old sport? I know… I know someone who’d pay a very high price for her safe return.”

“Listen, sir. I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is my first time in the country.”

“No, you’ve been here before, I’d put my money on it.” Jonathan could hear his voice getting louder, but in the haze of alcohol he couldn’t seem to stop it. “It was a con. You played the Americans, she stole my wallet.”

The man yanked his shoulder out of Jonathan’s grasp. “Come on pal, you’re drunk. I don’t know this girl!”

“You bloody well do!” Jonathan shouted indignantly. He wasn’t sure where the courage to stand up to this man came from, but there was no way he was leaving the bar without information on Libby. Drunk as he was, he knew he couldn’t go back to the hotel and face his brother-in-law without the slightest hint to her location.

The man stood up, as did his friend, a scrawny, freckled teenager with bright orange-red hair. “Listen friend, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’d do well to go home and sleep off the drink, instead of attacking strangers.”

“I swear—“ he started, but was tapped on the shoulder. A burly man with a holstered gun visible at his side stood behind him. Taking Jonathan by the arm, he led him outside, giving him a shove out the door.

For a moment, Jon contemplated waiting outside the bar for the man to exit, but his feet were unable to hold him up. Shoulders hunched in disappointment, Jonathan stumbled back toward the hotel, using the tall brick walls of the run-down buildings to prop him up. Babysitting duties awaited him come the morning. 


	4. Hide and Seek

“To hell with the fool…”

For once, the city was cool, and Davey was taking full advantage of it. From the sixth story window, where he perched with one leg dangling over the ledge, he kept a close eye on the street below through his binoculars.

Never, in all his life, had he expected the British man to return to the bar. That stranger had ruined a lot of lives that night ten years ago- most importantly, Davey’s. That box, that damned little box Libby had clung to for years, was supposed to be his ticket to riches, to freedom, to reunion with the person who’d cruelly been stolen from him years before.

It was one simple mission that the Chathams had given him: get the box.

Then that idiot drunkard had slipped it out of her pocket. Libby, that naïve little fool, had pulled that trick three dozen times over, mastering the art of pick pocketing within weeks of meeting Davey. How could she not see it coming?

When they returned to the decrepit abandoned building they were calling home, she’d fallen asleep, tears still on her cheek over losing the last connection she had to her brother. He’d stolen away once her breathing slowed, reporting to Edwin Chatham, who was not at all pleased. Hamunaptra was their ticket to power. Davey’s personal guarantee of a meal every night, and a bed to sleep in (maybe even, if he was lucky, some fine silk sheets).

Only one of them left that meeting alive.

He’d contemplated going after Libby. If Arabella Chatham wanted nothing to do with him, maybe he and Libs could team up and survive long enough to get the box back. But it was only a few days later that he heard of Rick O’Connell and Evelyn Carnahan. They had been given credit for discovering Hamunaptra before its mysterious collapse into the desert. Somehow they had gotten the box from that British nitwit.

Then came the news from Italy, and he knew there was no forgiveness. He’d vowed revenge, and if that meant teaming up with his personal enemy, so be it.

After ten years, he realized with relief, he was finally going to accomplish that. The bastard was staying at the Grayson-Stratford hotel, making the whole process simple- _maybe even,_ he though sadistically, _enjoyable._ It was just a matter of figuring out what room he was in. _Take out the O’Connell’s, get the scorpion, kill the drunk,_ he listed in his head. So many goals potentially accomplished at once.

Pointing his binoculars at the hotel, he watched as the idiot stumbled off the elevator on the sixth floor. _Even better, one stop for the O’Connell tribe and him._

Then he saw it. The inebriated man entered the room next to Rick and Evelyn. The room their son, Alexander, was staying in.

There was only one other member of the O’Connell party. Evelyn Carnahan-O’Connell’s brother. Davey couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. The world-famous Egyptologist, credited for one of the greatest discoveries in the 21st century, hadn’t found Hamunaptra by luck. She found it because her drunken brother had stolen that damned box.

Davey found it so humorous, in fact, it was almost enough to make him rethink revenge.

Almost.

 

OOO

 

“Uncle John,” a grating young voice hissed into Jonathan’s ear.

“Just another hour Alex, then we’ll do whatever you want. Just gotta sleep this off, buddy.” He pulled the pillows back over his pounding head, silently praying that anything would distract his nephew.

“But Uncle Jon…”

“Go read your book,” he moaned.

“I did read my book...” Alex replied sharply. This would normally bother him, as he didn’t like to disappoint the boy, but Jon was quite convinced a scarab had crawled out of Hamunaptra, gotten into his brain, and was now trying to escape through his forehead.

He felt the soft pillow being pulled from over his eyes, surrounding him with penetrating sunlight from the wide open window

“And I did a puzzle,” Alex continued, accentuating his point with a whack from the pillow. “And I did the math mum left me. And I organized my suitcase. And--“

Jonathan succeeded in reclaiming the pillow, turning over. “Bloody hell Alex, let me sleep!” he moaned.

“Oi, you whine more than me on a school day. Fine, go ahead and sleep. I’ll go explore the city on my own. Mum’ll love that.”

Instantly, Jonathan was out of bed, grabbing a pile of mismatched clothes and a barely used towel as he headed towards the shower. He slammed the door, but within a second was back out to issue an almost parent-like warning to Alex.

“If you leave this room, old boy, you’re dead.” Alex just smiled with satisfaction.

 _Death by angry mother avoided another day,_ Jonathan thought with a smile that quickly became a grimace as he felt his stomach heave.

Fifteen minutes later, he emerged from the shower, the hangover seemingly washed away with the dirt and grime of the dank bar. Alex was sitting on the bed, casually flipping through a book of South American animals, his newest fascination.

“So what’s on the agenda today, Alex?” Jonathan asked, ruffling the boy’s hair like he had done when he was much younger.

“I want to play hide and seek,” he replied with a smile.

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“In a hotel?”

“Obviously.”

“I’m game.” The child within him couldn’t resist the opportunity. Late night activities now behind him, he quickly claimed the role of seeker, and began counting to one hundred.

 

OOO

 

“I can offer you ten thousand pounds,” the German man stated in heavily accented English, a pompous and satisfied grin spreading across his face. Libby wasn’t even paying attention. The long curls at the end of his mustache fluttered each time he breathed, and she couldn’t seem to take her eyes away from them.

The man noticed. Undeterred, he began, “Miss Grayson, I said I can offer you—”

“Yes, I know. I heard you the first time. And no, I don’t accept that offer. I can tell you that the minimum price on the black market is seventy-five thousand pounds for canopic jars. So either you give me the minimum, or I find another buyer. I don’t play games.”

The man’s eyes widened. _That’s what you get for underestimating me, sucker._

Libby had seen Evy on her way out of the hotel that morning, accompanied by a man she assumed to be her husband. She’d pulled her aside quickly, not wanting to be a bother, and explained how she had agreed to meet the dealer several weeks before. After a quick assessment, Evy had told her not to take less than seventy-five thousand, though she seemed upset that it was a private collector, and not a museum. In a way, having learned a little of the other woman’s background, she could understand. But money was money.

 _And lord knows, I need the_ _money_. _Here's hoping bribery will convince the chef to stay. And the bellboys... and the... oh stop it Libby. This is just plain depressing. **You** are the entire staff at this hotel._

“Herbert said you were easy to take,” the man mumbled, writing out the check.

“I was. I got smart.”

In the corner of her eye, she saw a small blur rush into the dining room and dive under a table, bumping all the chairs along the way. Shaking his hand, she escorted the dealer out of the dining room, the jar safely concealed in his leather suitcase. Libby folded the check in half, and stuck it in her pocket until she had time to return to her room on the eighth floor.

Looking around, she knew she ought to start setting the tables for the evening’s dinner service, but curiosity got the best of her and she climbed under the table.

“Hey Alex, what are you doing under here?”

“Playing hide-and-seek with my uncle. He’s been asleep all day, the git.”

She muffled a laugh. “Language, language sir. You’re offending my poor ears.”

“Hey you’re trying to make me laugh so I give myself away!” he indignantly whispered, as he tried to keep himself from laughing.

“You catch me at my game,” she replied, as she moved back out into the open. “Shall I guard your hiding spot?”

“Yes, please.”

 

OOO

 

 _Damn it, Alex._ Jonathan had been up and down the eight-floor hotel three times now. He was almost convinced that Alex decided to hide outside just to torture him. Throwing open the door to the stairwell, he stalked into the lobby of the hotel, checking behind the sofas. No luck. The clerk at the front desk, Tamir, pulled his eyes away from what looked like floor plans of the hotel to gaze at him with a puzzled expression.

“Mind if I take a look behind the desk old chum?” Jonathan asked, moving towards him to lean over the counter. “My nephew is—“

“No!” Tamir snapped quickly, a complete change from the calm personality Jonathan had experienced their first day at the hotel. Within seconds, the placid and serene demeanor Jonathan remembered returned to his face. “My apologies sir. It’s been a… stressful few days. What can I help you with?”

“My nephew decided to play hide-and-seek, and though I’ve sought, I haven’t found him yet. Have you seen the scamp?”

“Perhaps the dining room sir?” Tamir asked, nodding toward a door that was cracked open.

“Right-o old boy. Shouldn’t be anyone in there this time of day! Thanks!” Tamir nodded, going back to the schematic of the hotel. Jonathan wondered if there might be plans for renovation of the old building coming up, though based on what Evy had said, it didn’t seem like there was money for them. _Ah well, find Alex first…_

He entered a large dining room, with long walls lined with white-clothed tables. A short, thin young woman, wearing a plain navy skirt and white blouse, leaned over one of the tables, arranging dishes and silver properly. “Excuse me miss,” he called, his eyes looking into corners hoping to see his nephew. “Have you seen a boy? Goes by the names Alex, he’s probably hiding somewhere…”

“If he’s hiding, I doubt I’ve seen him,” she replied with good-humor, a light laugh passing through her lips. Jonathan was left regretting the fact that his brain clearly had no way to filter out the thick comments from the more intelligent.

Busy pondering his inability to speak, he wasn’t paying attention to her as she turned around, or when she gasped. But when the white plates hit the oak floor, both eyes were focused directly on the woman.

_There’s no damned way…. She can’t be here, in this hotel…_

“Libby O’Connell?”

The girl just stared, and he couldn’t tell if she was angry, upset, or (as he secretly hoped) had not recognized him and been struck by his stunning good looks, thus allowing him to avoid dealing with that little pick-pocketing incident.

“I think,” she said in a frighteningly calm tone of voice, “I would like my box back now please.”

_So much for good looks…_

 

 

 

 


	5. Recognition

Libby blinked once. Libby blinked twice. Libby blinked several more times before she finally allowed herself to admit that the man before her was the same son of a bitch that stole her lucky box. Ten years had passed, yet his face was the same, right down to his scheming blue eyes and perfectly combed hair.

She tried, desperately to think of something to say that wouldn’t be confrontational or threatening. To reel in the rush of emotions- anger, a rage that was so unlike her- that was sweeping through her. She wanted to hit him, punch him, kick him ‘til he cried like a little girl (which she imagined wouldn’t require much energy), anything that he might understand what she went through. The pain and anguish that his actions had caused.

But she wasn’t a fighter. It was the reason she’d kept Davey with her as long as she did. And after what happened that night she lost the box…

She hated fighting, absolutely hated it.

What choice did she have? Libby did the one thing that seemed like it would do the least damage. She didn’t wait for a response. Lofting the white porcelain plate, she hurled it at him, sending a second behind it for good measure.

“Bloody hell, woman! What was that for?”

 _How DARE he play dumb,_ her mind raged.

“You KNOW what that was for, you ass!” she shouted, voice growing louder with each word. “Now. Where. Is. My. Box?”

Libby searched the streets for hours that night, scouring the stolen wallet for any trace of the owner’s name. The drunk must have suspected he’d lose it- there was no identification, very little money. It was all a big bust. She and Davey walked in silence all the way back to the run-down boarding house they rented a room in. Both stewed in anger, though at the time Libby had thought it was only herself fuming at the loss. Later that night…

Well. She’d successfully scrubbed those few hours out of her mind for ten years. Why bring back the rest of that night now?

The man looked to be at a loss for words as well, but quickly regained some semblance of composure. “Well you see, old mum,” he began with a nervous laugh. “The box happened to be the key to a very old tomb. And when we opened that tomb, we happened to bring a mummy back from the dead. Totally by accident, of course. You see my sister read this book and—“

She cut him off with her laughter. _Is he serious? Okay, I know I feel for the whole ‘bloody good show with the cars’ line, but really… a mummy?_ The old phrase came to her mind- fool me twice, shame on me.

“You expect me to believe that load of shit? A mummy stole the box?”

“Actually, it was buried in Hamunaptra when Benny hit the switch and the city collapsed.” The anger in her eyes clearly indicated that this was not what she wanted to hear.

“Are you mental?”

“Uh… no?” he questioned before visibly regaining his confidence. “Speaking of missing objects, you wouldn’t happen to have my wallet?”

“What?” she shrieked, causing him to wince. “Of course I don’t have your damned wallet! I chucked it years ago, it was worthless!”

“Well that wasn’t very kind of you…”

Libby felt her jaw drop, but he wasn’t done yet. “So Libby O’Connell is the Miss Eliza Grayson that owns this hotel? Slick name change, old girl, very slick.”

A chill ran through her as she realized that this was the second time he’d called her by her real name. No one knew her real name, not since Arabella and Davey. There was no way he could know it unless… unless he worked for Arabella?

No. That was impossible. Arabella Chatham never would hire a blockhead like him, no matter how much she wanted her revenge. So how could he possibly know her name?

Apparently she spoke those words aloud, because he answered mysteriously, “I know people.”

When the hell had he gotten the upper hand in this conversation?

Making a week attempt at regaining her bearings, she snapped, “Well you can tell those people to shove it.”

“Uncle Jon, what’s going on?” Alex had finally chosen the moment to reveal himself. “You know Libby too?”

As the two spoke, her first conversation with the little boy came back to her. _What did Alex say that night… when he talked about his Uncle? He told Alex to go look for more… to look for more damned artifacts. Oh I get your game, Jon whoever-you-are. You saw the scorpion and decided to one-up the silly hotel owner. Too bad I know your game. Poor Alex!_        

Libby could not believe that any grown man would send a little boy out to do his dirty work. Sending the boy to look for artifacts to steal? That was wrong, on so many levels. Libby couldn’t allow this to happen.

 

OOO

 

“Alex! Well, Libby and I are old friends, aren’t we?” he shot a glance at the woman, hoping she’d play along. The increasingly manic look in her eyes indicated she would not. “We go back quite a few years,” he quickly added, trying his best to cover his long-unpunished actions. Stealing the box had seemed so right at the time, but now, reflecting on the shattered porcelain that surrounded him, he was starting to have his doubts.

“I don’t think she agrees, Uncle Jon,” Alex replied as Jon was hit by several spoon, then forced to dodge a plate.

“Woman, have you lost your mind?”

“Oh, I assure you I have _all_ of my senses. I get it, you’re a thief, just as good as I used to be. But using this poor boy- your own nephew- to steal priceless treasures? That’s low. You sent him around to see what I had in this hotel so you could take it and sell it, right? I don’t think so buddy!”

It was his turn for his jaw to drop. _The girl has lost her mind._

“What are you talking about?”

“The day I met him, he was looking for artifa—“

“Miss Grayson, is everything alright in here?” The young bellhope, Kaysar, stood at the door of the dining room, staring at the scene. His normally sweet, polite, and demure boss was threatening a guest with a saucer, the young boy between them looking on in amusement.

“Everything is fine,Kaysar” she whispered, realizing the that the saucer was still lofted above her head. Jonathan watched from the chair he’d swiftly ducked behind as she placed the object in question on the table, smoothing the cream-colored cloth that covered the wood.

_The woman’s insane… this is most definitely Rick O’Connell’s sister._

“If you say so, miss. When you have some time, could we speak? My cousins would like to find some work, and I think they would do very well as maids here.”

“Come and see me tonight, we can talk about.” The tinge of relief spreading over her face did not go unobserved by Jonathan. Kaysar nodded, then walked away, taking one last glance through the door to reassure himself that all was well.

Libby turned back to Jonathan and Alex. “Listen, I don’t know who you people are, or why you’re here, but you, sir, played me once, and I’m not about to lose any more of my property to you. I appreciate your business, and you can stay for the night, but I must really ask that you find a new hotel. And I want my scorpion back. Now.”

“I saw you’re old friend,” Jonathan offered up quickly. There was no way he could get them thrown out of the hotel. Evelyn would kill him. Perhaps a reunion with her long-lost friend would grant him some temporary redemption.

“What old friend? I don’t have friends,” she replied, clearly still angry.

“That boy from the bar, Danny or something.”

“Davey? That’s impossible,” she replied, her face becoming pale.

“But—“

“He’s been dead for ten years. Would you just stop? I get your game, you old con. Now if you’ll please follow me upstairs, I am going to take the scorpion from your room and allow you some time to find another hotel.”

Alex now had the saddest look on his face that Jonathan had ever seen, but he was too distracted by the idea that he’d seen a ghost to notice. He knew for certain what he saw, he wasn’t _that_ drunk. In fact, Jonathan could safely confirm that in all his adventures, none of the supposedly-dead things he saw had ever been hallucinations. Davey was a solid human being when he’d wrapped an arm around his shoulder. No way he was dead.

Alex shot a dirty look at his uncle, realizing the older man was distracted, and ran up to walk with Libby. Though she was still angry, her skin a very bright shade of pink from all the yelling, the two chatted amiably. It was almost adorable, if you could call a psychotic, plate-throwing hotel manager adorable.

Besides, Jonathan’s mind was not focusing on adorability. It was now focused on a new thought. _Evelyn is not going to like this at all…_

 

OOO

 

“How’s it going, Charlie?” Davey asked the teenager, who had taken his spot in the window.

“O’Connell’s are still out. The brother just got offa the elevator with the girl who owns the hotel. Definitely some issues between those two.” The younger man passed off the binoculars.

Looking through them, he saw the scorpion being taken from the room by the hotel manager. The two people in the hotel room were arguing, and O’Connell’s son was sitting on the bed, amused at the whole situation. Davey visibly cringed as the manager waved the scorpion wildly. _It cannot be damaged!_  

“’Ey, look on the bright side,” Charlie said. “At least the manager has the scorpion. She’ll be easy to take.”

Davey adjusted the binoculars to get a better look at the manager, and let out a gasp. “Well if it isn’t Libby O’Connell.”

“What?” Charlie asked.

“Call Arabella,” Davey commanded. “We have to move it up.”

Charlie looked incredulous. “Wait, why?”

Shoving the neck of his shirt aside, Davey pointed at the scar on his chest, just above his heart. “The manager is stronger than she looks. Arabella will agree. After you call her, call our friend and get him here. He’s leading the men, and this needs to be done tonight.”

Charlie sprinted out of the room, the urgency in his boss’s voice quite evident.  Putting the binoculars back to his eyes, Davey watched as Libby left the room. A few seconds later, Alexander had followed in her footsteps, clearly directed by the uncle to find out where she was staying.

 

OOO

 

 _Well I can’t bloody well say that I set fire to the building… how the hell do I explain this to Evy and Rick?_ Jonathan was annoyed. He’d already contacted the gate keeper at the house to have him start preparing the home for their stay. _And how do I explain to Rick that it’s his sister that’s kicking us out?_

The door to his hotel room swung open, and Rick and Evy entered, dressed to the nines following the gala at the museum. “How’s the hangover?” Rick asked jovially, forgoing pleasantries as he knew his brother-in-law all too well.

Jonathan stood. “I believe we need to sit down and have a bit of a chat,” he began, but was quickly interrupted as Alex came running in.

“Mum, mum! Guess what! You know Libby? She knows Uncle Jon! Actually, I think she hates Uncle Jon. Ohh he made her so bloody mad, she threw plates at him! Do you know what he did to her? He won’t tell me and now we have to leave the hotel ‘cause she thinks he was gonna steal the artifacts and—“

One look at his father’s now serious face made him pause for breath. “Are you angry at me for leaving the room? Because Uncle Jon sent me out to find where Libby lives and I—“

“Are you serious Jonathan? Is she really here?”

“Yes, she is old boy,” he replied quietly. “I sent Alex to find out what room she was in. Shall we?”

Jonathan had seen Rick this happy only once before- the day he married Evelyn. Ushering Rick out the door, the two started upstairs, leaving Evy to calm the excited Alex, and find out why exactly they were being removed from the hotel.

 

OOO

 

Three knocks on the door. Libby closed the safe she was leaning over quickly, the check from the dealer now safely inside. “Good lord, all I want is a bath!” Libby grumbled.

It had been the longest dinner service of her life, the situation not in the slightest bit ameliorated by the fact that she’d destroyed the plates in her anger, resulting in a shortage in the middle of a rush of customers. Knowing, however, that it was Kaysar at the door, with the promise of new employees, she re-buttoned her shirt and headed toward the door.

“Come on in Kaysar,” she said, trying to sound upbeat.

Libby came face-to-face with a pistol pointed directly at her head.

“Libby,” Tamir said, walking forward so that she was forced back into the room. “I want Seth’s savior. Now.”


	6. Seth's Savior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long delay in posting this you guys! Since the last time I posted I thought I wrapped up my old job, moved across country, found out my old job needed me back for two months, lived on a couch for two months finishing the old job, and then moved again. And attempted planning a wedding and finding a new job in between. But life's calmed down and we're back in business!

“Tamir, what’s going on?” Libby asked shakily, her thighs bumping into her bed as she backed away. He cocked the gun, aiming directly at her head. “What the hell is a Seth savior? I don’t know Seth!” Beads of sweat gathered at the nape of her neck as she realized she had no easy escape.

For the second time in her life, Libby had to defend herself. She’d always had someone to keep her safe- Richie, Davey, Mr. Grayson. She couldn’t hold her own against most people, and on top of that, hated being the cause of other people’s pain. The one time she’d been on the defensive…

She couldn’t think about it. The scars were still too deep from that period of her life.

“Don’t play games, Libby. I want it now.”

“That would be great if I know what _it_ was!” Her hands clutched the coverlet of the bed, twisting the fabric tightly in a feeble attempt to calm down.

“You idiot woman, where is Tefen?” he cried, taking a swing at her head with the gun. Ducking down, Libby elbowed him in the stomach hard and moved out from under his arms. He collapsed to the ground, dropping the gun, which she promptly kicked under the bed.

 _Get out of here, you silly girl,_ the voice in her head cried, but her thoughts went to the scorpion on the table. _Okay, grab the scorpion, then get out._ There was no way she was leaving good money sitting around for her attempted murderer to take.

Libby stumbled over Tamir, who was catching his breath. He quickly recognized what she was moving towards and pushed himself up. It was a tangle of limbs as they both clambered over chairs and her piles of dirty clothing towards the scorpion.

“This? This is what Seth wants?” Libby shouted as Tamir jumped over a chair and attempted to grab the tiny gold statue. “Christ, if you want it that badly, you can have it! Name your price!”

“You couldn’t possibly understand the value of the scorpion!”

“Yes, I can! In fact, I won’t even charge you full price.” Tamir lunged, and she ducked under his arm so that she was now facing the door. She turned to stare at her once loyal, seemingly timid front desk clerk, afraid that if she turned her back he’d find another weapon to finish her. If she just kept moving, kept him distracted, she would make it out of this alive. “Twenty thousand, and you can keep your job. How about that?”

Escape was so close…           

Until he lunged again, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her into his chest. Cool steel brushed her neck, skimming across her skin. She didn’t know where the knife came from, but it didn’t matter. She was frozen in place, terrified any movement would cause him to stab her. “How about I kill you, take the hotel and the scorpion?”

_Say yes, just say yes… save your ass, Libby…_

“Uhhh… no?” He drew the knife along her cheek, and she felt a trickle of blood run down her neck along the column of her throat. _Good job, running your mouth, woman. And you call that English gent slow._ She wanted nothing more than to wipe the blood away, but with the tip of the knife gently prodding her throat, she knew that movement was entirely unwise.

It was over, it was all over. She was going to die alone in her dirty bedroom, going down with the dump of a hotel her adopted father pawned off on her. Tamir leaned closer, pressing the knife into her skin enough to draw another trickle of blood. “I’m very much going to enjoy this, Miss O’Connell.”

It took a second for it to dawn on her.  “Miss… who told you that? The Brit?“

“You think that idiot could put two and two together? I thought you were smarter, Elizabeth.”

“What do you mean--?”

The crack of a gunshot interrupted her sentence, and when a bullet pierced the door, Libby screamed. Dodging the bullet, Tamir jumped away, moving the knife with him. Taking advantage of the situation, she pounced on his foot, digging her heal into his toes.

She didn’t stay to see his reaction. Deciding her chances were better with the gun-wielding maniacs outside her door, rather than the knife-wielding maniac in her room, she grabbed the knob and bolted.    

 

OOO

 

Jonathan had seen his brother-in-law do a great many things in the time they were acquainted. Never before had he seen the man bounce. Literally, up the stairs, through the hallway. “Not excited at all, are you mate?” he joked, reveling in the jovial mood. _Finally_ a trip to Egypt was going right.

“Wouldn’t you be? I haven’t seen Libs since I was sixteen. She was seven when I left. I wanted adventure. The orphanage was holding me back. I always thought I’d go back and find her again. Probably the stupidest thing I’ve done.”

 _Would that make raising Imhotep and his buddies the second stupidest?_ Jonathan wondered silently. Still, he understood where Rick was coming from. Regrets- he had plenty when it came to how he’d treated Evy when they were younger. He’d ruined her reputation with the Bembridge scholars with his antics.

“She was gone by the time I got back to the orphanage. She would have been thirteen, and she’d disappeared into— wait, did you hear that?”

As they stepped into the ninth floor hallway, he heard two voices with strong Irish accents mumbling. Rick peered around the corner, Jonathan looking over his shoulder on tiptoes. Both men were burly, their faces obscured so only their eyes were seen.

“You think he got it?” the first asked, twirling a pistol around his finger in the way of the film cowboys and gangsters, like Errol Flynn and Buster Keeton.

“Dunno. But that bitch seem liked she’d be easy to take out,” the other replied, tucking a knife into the back pocket of his denim jeans. Jonathan watched Rick’s body tense. They were talking about Libby.

“Huh. Yeah. Dave knew her. Said she wouldn’t hurt a spider.”

Jonathan quickly pulled Rick out of his reverie. “What’s the plan, old boy?”

The look on Rick’s face seemed to say, “Clearly we’re going to kill the bastards trying to hurt my sister,” but Rick’s actual reply was a simple command: “I’ll get the knife guy. You shoot the other one.”

 _Here we go again…_ Jon thought with a roll of his eye, taking a sip of liquid courage before he drew his gun.

“Lord Almighty,” the man with the gun muttered. “Can’t wait to get m’self out of this shit-hole country.”

“I’m tellin’ you, brother, if Arabella’s right, we’re headin’ to Italy next. At least there’ll be some soddin’ civ—“

He never got to finish his reply, as Rick had snuck behind him, slipped the knife out of his pocket, and plunged it into his back. The second man attempted to grab his gun, but Jonathan never gave him a chance. Steadying his own shaking hand, he fired twice. The first shot hit the gun in the man’s hand, ricocheting towards the door of Libby’s room. The second lodged itself in the man’s chest, silencing him permanently.

“What the hell’s going on around this hotel?” Rick muttered. Jonathan shrugged, bending to take the gun off the corpse, when the door opened, slamming into his head and knocking him backwards.

“Oh. My. God. Not you again, I can _not_ deal with this right now,” Libby shouted, sounding tired. Jonathan regained his bearings enough to notice that she was bleeding, but she was running down the hallway before questions could be asked.

Rick looked dumbstruck, but was quickly brought back to the present when he heard a voice cry from within the room, “Rafe, Ian did you stop her?”

Tamir tumbled out of the room, knife waving wildly. Immediately, his eyes lit up with recognition. “O’Connell,” he stated menacingly.

Not stopping to ask questions, Rick drew his gun and shot the front desk clerk. Leaning over to collect the knife in his hand, Jonathan heard him whisper, “There… are… others….”

“What he say?” Rick asked, removing a second and third gun from his back pocket, ensuring they were loaded.

“Something about others. You brought three guns with you to meet your sister?”

Rick never got a chance to answer. A distinctly feminine scream emerged from the stairwell. One quick glance between the two, and they were off down the hallway.

Jonathan, as per his personal beliefs, ran only in two situations: free money and undead with superhuman powers. But for once, he kept pace easily with Rick, both reaching the banister in the stairwell at the same time.

Libby stood, pressing herself into a corner, her hand gripping one of her pockets. Her face didn’t betray any fear, but Jonathan knew that he was scared for her. Blocking the way down was a group of fifteen or so men, faces masked, some with scimitars drawn. The leader of the group had his hand on a gun.

“You got my back, right?” Rick asked.

“Course I do. When have I ever failed you?”

Rick’s raised eyebrow was answer enough. With a small smirk, he launched himself over the banister, landing on top of the gunman.

“Always have to make a bloody show, don’t you?” Jon whined, running down the stairs as he took one last swig from his flask. He started shooting into the crowd. As always, Rick was right in the thick of it, a gun in each hand, firing rapidly.

One of the men pushed himself past Rick, scimitar drawn, and ran at Libby. She stood frozen, her face a mix of shock, awe, and fright. Jon quickly grabbed her by the sleeve and pulled her out of the corner. With his sword stuck in the wall, the man moved to attack them with his bare hands, but Jon shot him before he got too close.

“Why are they after you?” Jon asked over his shoulder.

“They want the scorpion, they called it a savior or something!” she shouted.

 _Not another Egyptian legend. Next thing you know, Bay’ll come walking in here with his army._ As he took aim at another man, he saw Libby jump out of the corner of his eye. _Ok, get her out of here in one piece, then help Rick._

“Give me the scorpion,” Jonathan demanded.

“What!?” she squeaked

“You need to warn people to get out of the hotel. These chaps’ll stop at nothing. Give me the scorpion, take the gun, and get out of here.”

“But—”

“As soon as we’re out of this mess, I’ll find you and give the bloody thing back. Trust me.” She looked incredulous, but quickly reached into her pocket and slipped the scorpion into his hands. In turn, he passed the dead Irishman’s gun to her. “Can you use this?”

She stared at the metal weapon, eyes wide as she turned it over in her trembling hands. He grabbed her shoulder and gave her a shake, pulling her away from her reverie. “Can you use this, Libby?” he asked slowly, almost gently. The girl was terrified. She nodded once.

“A little help here people!” he heard Rick shout.

“We’ll clear a path for you. Ready?” he asked.

While the expression on her face looked doubtful, Libby appeared to brace herself to run. Secretly, he was proud of her relative composure, in spite of her apparent fear.

“Wait!’ Rick said, pushing a shocked Jonathan into the forefront of the battle. “My wife, Evy O’Connell is in room 612. My son too. Please, make sure they get out.” Libby nodded, and darted down the stairs.

“Hell Carnahan, never thought you’d be the one calling the shots,” Rick joked, now fighting scimitar to scimitar. Jon, however, could hear the sincerity in his voice for helping Libby escape. “You finally get some common sense?”

Jonathan grinned cheekily, ducking down under a swinging sword to steal a nip from his flask. Some things never changed.

 

OOO

 

 _O’Connell, O’Connell, what are the odds?_ Libby thought as she pounded her fists on doors. Her voice was hoarse from shouting, her ears aching from guests screaming over their now interrupted sleep, but she’d run into Kaysar and sent him to warn the lower floors.

_There are plenty of O’Connell’s in the world, there’s no way…_

“Evy! Alex! Are you there?” Libby wildly hit the door, which opened up soon after.

“Oi, mum! It’s Libby!” Alex shouted back, and Evelyn soon joined her son at the door.

“What happened?” The woman looked concerned to see her. “Libby, why are you here?”

“There’s a fight, upstairs. Tamir attacked me and tried to take the scorpion, but your husband and Jonathan came and killed him, and I tried to run, but then on the stairs there were, like, twenty more men waiting, and another fight started. He said to make sure you two got out.” It all came out in one breath, but it was a relief to finally put the strange- almost unbelievable- events out into the open.

“Alex, get dressed, grab your bag, and go outside, I’m going to find your father.”

 _These people are insane! Do they_ want _to be dead?_ “Evy, don’t you think it’s more important to get your son outside? I mean, I know it’s two versus twenty, but somehow they’re holding their own. I really don’t understand it—“

“It’s because these men are alive, dear. They don’t normally get to fight living men. It’s a big deal,” Evy answered distractedly, tossing clothing into bags, slipping a gun in her back pocket. _Insane, this family is just plain insane._

“Please, just get out; I don’t want your husband angry at me. Think about Alex…”

Evy stopped, giving her a questioning look. Then she smiled and said, “You’re right. You’ll come with us?”

Libby was about to answer the affirmative, when she suddenly remembered: the antique dealer’s check was still in the upstairs safe. There was no way she was leaving without it. “No, I have to…. finish warning the guests. But I’ll be out right after.”

“Good,” Evy responded, concern in her face almost like an older sister looking out for a younger. “And if you see Rick, please let him know that for once I am listening to what he said, but he shouldn’t expect it to ever happen again.” Nodding, Libby sprinted for the stairs.

She was in the seventh floor hallway when it finally hit her. _Evy and Alex O’Connell. Husband named Rick. Rick is a nickname for Richard. Evy’s husband is named Richard O’Connell. Oh hell…_

Seventeen years missing, Richie O’Connell had worked his way back into her life. She was dumbfounded, standing in the center of the hallway. All was forgotten- the scorpion, the fighting, the check.

“Well lookie here,” she heard behind her. “Little Miss Libby, last time I saw you I was looking down the wrong end of a gun.”

It was Davey. _Alex’s uncle didn’t lie. He isn’t dead. How is he not dead? He wasn’t moving when I left that night, wasn’t breathing at all…_ Reaching in her pocket to make sure the scorpion was safe, she instead felt the cool steel of the gun.

Libby drew it and turned with shaking hand. “Well Davey, looks like you’re looking down the wrong end of the gun again.”

 


	7. Explosive Behavior

Perfect. Absolutely perfect, Davey thought as he climbed through the window of Libby’s room. Thus far, everything had gone smoothly. He’d watched Tamir follow Libby out of her room, and though the girl had put up a fight, the gunshots he heard all but guaranteed that his comrades had been successful. Really, the girl is clearly unarmed. No excuses.

Now it was his turn. Libby was going down in a blaze of glory tonight. He couldn’t help but laugh- he was finding that, since Arabella had approached him for this mission, he laughed quite a bit. He might hate her, but he hated Libby more. Setting the dynamite that his boss had provided on the center of Libby’s bed with child-like glee, he began unraveling the string towards the door, stretching it into the hallway.

The door didn’t budge.

 _Strange, why would Tamir leave her body here when he knew I was coming through?_ Giving the door a hard shove with his shoulder, it finally gave, moving the corpse several feet as it swung out. Staring down, he saw that it was, in fact, Tamir’s body, frigid atop the bodies of the lookouts.

“Damn, damn, DAMN!” he shouted, giving the wall a good kick. “Who the hell is helping her?” There was no way Libby killed them herself.

He kept moving, unraveling the string down the long hallway and starting down the stairs. He list the fuse, then began sprinting. God damn Libby, now I have to find you before this place blows…  
Flying down the stairs, he saw most of the men he’d helped enter the building were now dead or wounded, the remaining fighting against… O’Connell and Carnahan? How was it possible that so many trained mercenaries were taken down by just these two?

Whatever, he couldn’t deal with the incompetent mercenaries that Arabella hired. Just find the girl…

“I bloody knew he was alive!” he heard the English buffoon shout as he rushed by, but there was too much at stake to stop. He tore down one hall, then another, until he spotted her, lost in thought. Nothing had changed- she was still the slight girl he’d met running away from her adoptive parents. She’d been so naïve, so trusting, despite everything she’d endured.

Huh, how little she knew…

“Well lookie here,” he said, knowing that he’d catch her off guard. He’d have her undivided attention as he finally got the pleasure of revenge. “Little Miss Libby, last time I saw you, I was looking down the wrong end of a gun…”

Davey wasn’t even worried that he was unarmed. Poor little girl doesn’t stand a chance.

OOO

“Do you ever stop and wonder if this whole ‘saving the world’ thing will get old?” Rick asked Jonathan as he quickly dispatched one of the remaining fighters.

“Course I do,” he replied, pausing as he collected ammunition and guns off the dead. “Then I realize that, if we stopped, all I’d do is drink and chase after women far beyond my reach. My ego couldn’t bear the rejection. You?”

“Evy’s got a list of housework that’s older than Alex. What do you think?” He paused. “Do you smell smoke?”

Jonathan paused to sniff the air, but Rick didn’t wait for his answer. Climbing up the stairs, he was only gone a moment before he rushed back down. “We gotta get out of here!”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost old boy…” Jonathan said as Rick broke into a run. He dragged Jonathan by the shirt down the stairs. “Seriously, Rick, what happened?”

“There’s a fuse lit upstairs, and I’m not sticking around to see where it goes, or how long it takes to get there. The carpet’s on fire too. I think it’s high time we make our getaway.”

Jonathan didn’t need to be told twice. He sprinted alongside his brother-in-law, down two flights of stairs that seemed more like twelve. Bloody hell, up and down these stairs all night. There’s a perfectly fine elevator in this buildings, why do the crazies refuse to use that?

Wait, why do we refuse to use that?

He was quickly pulled from his elevator-laden reveries by a flash of silver in the seventh floor corridor. “Rick, wait!”

“Jon, you better have an extremely good reason for this…”

He pulled Rick into the corridor, where they eased up behind the scene. The silver, which was actually steel, was a very familiar looking pistol. The hand that held it out was trembling, as if unsure of their intention or desire to use the weapon. Libby stood in the dead center of the hallway, holding Davey at gunpoint. Jonathan made a move to speak, but Rick stopped him. He looked questioningly at his brother-in-law, but he got no response.

“I thought I killed you a long time ago,” he heard Libby say. Rick looked shock, and Jonathan couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he’d had a bit too much to drink, considering he was convinced he was hearing things.

“No way, Libs. I don’t go down that easy. Helps that your aim is shit and you only grazed my shoulder.”

“And Edwin?”

“Yeah, your father’s dead. Bet he never saw that coming from his sweet baby girl.” Davey was clearly baiting her.

“He was never my father, and I was never his daughter. I was the quickest route to-“ She paused, seemingly unable to speak. Her face was red, her hands shaking even worse than before.

“I’m not here to talk about that. Just give me the damn scorpion.”

“You’re not in the position to make deals here, Davey.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me. How long did it take you to get over the guilt last time?” Davey smirked when he didn’t receive a response. “That’s what I thought, Libs.”

“Don’t call me that…”

“Libs, Libs, Libs,” he taunted, almost childishly. Most would have thought it a lack of maturity, but Jonathan knew it was an attempt to get under her sin, to let her guard down long enough to eliminate her.

Jonathan was quickly becoming more worried, a feeling he couldn’t quite explain, except for the reminder that this was Rick’s baby sister that was in danger. He could only imagine how he’d feel if it was Evy in danger again. The echo of a gunshot rang through his ears.

Rushing closer, he saw that a large portion of the roof was now missing, a light fixture lying next to Davey’s unconscious body. The gun was on the floor at her side. Libby’s gaz quickly fell upon them as they took in the scene.

“Hey there Richie,” she said quietly.

OOO

 _No time for talking, Elizabeth O’Connell. Go get your money before he gets up._ Taking her own advice, Libby smiled and nodded at the two men, and headed for the stairs.

“Don’t think so, kiddo,” Rick said, stepping in front of her, hand against her shoulder to keep her from moving.

“I think twenty years of abandonment sort-of eliminates your influence in my life, Richard.” A staring match began between the two siblings, and she remembered that Rick could be as stubborn, if not more so, than her.

“Damn Rick, you don’t even let Evy call you Richard…”

“Can it!” Libby shouted at Jonathan, as her brother simultaneously told the British man to shut up. He was clearly trying to lighten the mood, but after the night she had, all she wanted was a cigarette and a nap. Taking her brother’s momentary distraction as an advantage, she attempted to push past him.

Unfortunately, Rick was not as easy easily distracted, because his vice-like grip moved to her wrist, preventing her from moving. “Absolutely not, Libs. Your pal set the top floor on fire. And then, in his infinite wisdom, he also decided to plant some dynamite. So any minute now, your hotel is going up in a ball of flames.”

“I have time!” she insisted. Pigheaded or not, she was not leaving her life savings in a vault that was about to be no more.

“Libby, just listen to your brother,” Jonathan pleaded, nervous over the imminent explosion.

“Shut up, box thief,” she shot back, attempting to yank her arm away from Rick. “Richie, let me go!”

"What's so important?"

"My money! My belongings! Everything I worked the last ten years to get!" No one would argue with that logic, in her opinion.

At least, most people wouldn't argue with her logic. Rick, however, was not most people. "Elizabeth, you're leaving the building with the two of us."

"I am not!" she shouted back. Everything I own is here, you idiot, don't you get that!

"Yes you are!" Grabbing her around the waist, he hauled her over his shoulder. "You ready Jonathan?" he asked, despite the whacks of her fists and her feat kicking dangerously close to his face.

"Been ready for a while!"

Libby felt each jolt as Rick jostled down the stairs, Jonathan leading the way. Even though she knew that she was safer leaving with them, the appearance of Davey in her life almost made her wish they'd let her stay and go down with the proverbial ship. Davey's presence meant only one thing: Arabella Chatham was about to return to her life. And Libby, although she'd only confirmed the man's death tonight, was certain that the older woman had not yet forgiven her for the death of her husband.

Forgive and forget was a mentality that did not exist in Arabella's world.

OOO

Alex had never seen his mother so worried before, though he secretly had a feeling she had acted the same way when he'd been kidnapped the year before. She was pacing back and forth where they stood, about few hundred feet away from the hotel entryway.

"Where is your father?" he heard his mother whisper.

"I'm sure he and Uncle Jon are alright, mum. Maybe they found Aunt Libby." Alex had quickly discovered that he had no trouble adjusting to his newly discovered aunt. In fact, the idea of having a relative that knew absolutely nothing about Egypt was thrilling. Already he had a list of stories to tell her- finally someone would get excited over the Egyptian afterlife with him!

"Come on Rick," he heard his mother whisper again. Now he was starting to worry. Libby had left them in their room well over twenty minutes ago. "Please, just come out alive you two…"

"Mum?"

"They'll be fine, they always come out—"

An explosion lit up the night, and Alex felt himself being thrown to the ground and covered by his mother's body. All around him he heard the sound of wood, metal, glass, everything that was once in the hotel, landing around him. He was certain they were both done for.

Then the air was still. No sound whatsoever, a rarity on the streets of Cairo. His mother moved away, and he saw she was holding the back of her head. When she moved her hand, there was blood that she quickly wiped away on the dark pants she was wearing. Seeing his worried gaze she said, "Don't worry love, just a bump." She was being brave for him.

Alex knew she didn't want him to be scared, so he pretended he wasn't. He felt his eyes filling with tears. Dad and Uncle Jon can't be dead, they always finds a way out. Always. Still, remembering the events from a year before, nearly losing his mother, he had every reason to worry.

"LET GO OF ME!" A piercing woman's voice broke the silence.

"Mum, that's Libby!" he whispered, but she had already realized that.

"Alex, stay here," he heard his mother whisper. He saw her shadow at the center of the street, ashes from the now-burning hotel falling around her like rain. "Let the girl go, or I'll shoot," he heard her say.

When did she take Dad's gun? Not that it really mattered. His mother was pretty much amazing. Even his school chums agreed—none of their mother's had nearly been swept away by the Nile or chased by scarabs.

"Evelyn?" he heard a deep, familiar American voice reply.

"Richie, would you PUT ME DOWN!" Libby shouted again.

"Bloody hell women, shut up! That explosion gave me enough of a headache."

Alex watched as his father deposited Libby on the ground and ran to his mother, quickly pulling her into his arms and kissing her. "Oh brother…" he murmured. He didn't care if they'd just had another near death experience. Kissing was gross. End of story.

OOO

Jonathan stood awkwardly to the side, watching the couple. Libby, after Rick had unceremoniously plopped her back on the ground, took a seat on the curb, head hanging in her hands. She curled in on herself, every once in a while looking up at the burning hotel, but not for long.

"Uncle Jon! Libby!" he heard his nephew cry, running over to the both. Jonathan picked him up, giving him a bear hug. Poor kid's been through too much in ten years.

The boy pulled away quickly, leaping down to the ground, and embraced Libby. "I'm sorry about your hotel," he heard the boy whisper.

She ruffled his hair, giving him a small smile, despite her quivering chin and eyes flooded with tears. "Don't worry your head about it, kiddo. I'm just glad you're ok."

Noticing the bloodstain on her shirt, he remembered that she'd been injured. Jonathan shooed Alex to distract his parents, and took a seat next to her. "Now what do you want?" she asked, bitterly. "Everything is burning, I have nothing for you to steal, why won't you leave me alone?"  
He pulled her hair away from her face so he could see the cut, tucking it behind her ear. She flinched. "Excuse me?" she harshly responded.

"Your face is bleeding pretty badly." She reached up to touch the cut herself, then shrugged him away again.

"I'll live." She grabbed hold of her singed skirt, ripping a long piece off so she could hold it to her face.

There was silence between them. "Thank you, for helping me," she said quickly. "Don't think this means we're friends, or anything, but I can't ignore what you did for me and I appreciate it. Even if you did burn my home and business to the ground."

"We burnt it down? You're the one who wouldn't give them what they wanted!"

"Well it was mine to begin with!" her voice raised in anger.

"But you could—"

"We're going to the house," Rick stated, quickly moving between the two. Now was not the time to be arguing. "You too, Libs."

Her face contorted between annoyance and anger. "But—"

"No buts. They're after you Libby. Whatever you have, they want it, and they're not going to stop until they get it."

“They weren’t after me ‘til you showed up,” she muttered, sighing in frustration. Nevertheless she stood without any additional comment. Jonathan could tell she trusted her brother just about as much as she trusted him, and considering the way they had parted as children, he couldn't blame her.

"Tomorrow, we'll find Ardeth. Maybe he can tell us what's going on…" Rick said.

"Knowing our desert friend," Jonathan shot back, "he's already at the house."


	8. Ardeth's Legend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> History lesson! The legend in this chapter is an ancient Egyptian legend written on the Metternich Stela. Discovered in 1828, the stone tablet contains mostly spells for curing poison and illness, but also relates this story of Isis and Seth. I have made some changes, but the basic plot is true to translations of the Stela. Seth's curse, however, is entirely my creation.

_How do I explain this to Rick and Evelyn?_ Ardeth Bay mused silently, jaw clenched, hands still clutching his scimitar at the ready. Bodies littered the once attractively groomed gardens. Evelyn's delicate desert flowers were now trampled into the ground.

It wasn't even the O'Connell family's fault that Egypt- no, the whole world- was threatened yet again. Typically, Ardeth and his men would handle the situation themselves, but he was at a total loss. For all the strange men he interrogated, captured after desecrating the sacred temples at Karnak, Ardeth had gotten no closer to discovering the identity of their employer. His men had been outwitted, time and again, by the unknown mastermind. These people were smart—how else could they have solved the riddles and stolen three of those accursed statues?

That's why he came to Cairo. He'd heard that the O'Connell's had come for the weekend. If they could at least solve the riddles, reveal the location of the last four scorpions… not even all four—just one, and the world would be safe.

It wasn't fair of him to put the family back in danger, especially after their last meeting, but desperate times, indeed, called for these measures.

"Sayyar, Irfan, gather the men and have them take care of the dead."

"Oh Ardeth," he heard a familiar American accent call out. "Care to explain why there's a body in the fountain?"

"I'm sorry, my friends, they followed me here." He walked to Rick O'Connell's side, shaking his and Jonathan's hands, and uncomfortably receiving a hug from Evy. Behind them, he noticed Alex, wide awake and buzzing with excitement, chattering away to a woman he didn't recognize. The group looked worse for wear, both women bleeding, and all of them covered in dust.

"So, old boy, is the world about to end again?" Jonathan joked.

Ardeth glared at him. "Unfortunately, yes. These men—"

"We know, buddy, we know. Had a little run in with them ourselves. Shall we compare stories?" Stepping over another corpse as if their appearance in his yard was a common occurrence, Rick led the group into the house. Ardeth whispered a prayer that together, they could defeat this new evil.

OOO

Shell shocked, Libby stood back from the crowd, holding a piece of cloth hat she'd torn off her skirt to her bleeding cheek. Her brother apparently knew the desert man that stood amidst the dead. This was a comforting fact, because she didn't think she was up to running anymore. The strange man had a strong jaw, a serious brow, and dark eyes that conveyed worry and fear.  _Pretty easy on the eyes, if I do say so myself_ , she thought, trying to find a positive in this disastrous night.

She couldn’t think about the disastrous past few hours right now. She had to keep going. 

As he spoke with the group, Libby felt more and more like an outsider, though in all honesty, she knew that was exactly what she was. Rick felt obligated to keep her safe. As soon as all this was settled, she'd be out of his life again. Frankly, she couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"C'mon Libby, Ardeth's going to explain what's going on!" Alex shook her wildly out of her reverie. "Don't you want to know why the men came to your hotel?"

_There better be a good reason,_ she thought angrily, following the boy _._ As they walked, Alex played the role of museum tour guide, showing her each room they passed and pointing out the more interesting artifacts his parents had collected with a wave of his hand. Despite everything, she couldn't help but smile at the boy's enthusiasm.

"Alex!" Evy called, appearing from a room farther down the corridor "Let your aunt sit a while, she's had a rough night."

Libby smiled at the other woman gratefully. She noticed that a bandage was now wrapped around Evy's head. "Come into the dining room, Libby. One of Ardeth's men will take a look at that cut on your cheek."

Taking her arm-in-arm, Evy led her to a seat next to Jonathan, where the man she spoke of began cleaning the wound. As she felt the alcohol drip into the cut on her face, she jerked away. "Sit still or you'll bleed to death," the man said, annoyed, and even though Libby found that highly unlikely, she wasn't going to argue with the tone of his voice.

"So what are we dealing with, Bay? Mummies again?" Rick asked, wasting no time with formalities. Libby jolted in shock.  _Mummies? Mental cases, the whole group of them…_

"Would you sit still?" the man growled. It wasn't his voice, but the sight of the needle he was going to use to stitch the wound, which froze her in place. Not even a whimper escaped when the cool metal cut through her flesh.

"Ardeth, you haven't met Libby yet. Libby is Rick's sister," Evelyn said, motioning to her. One eyebrow lifted, she wasn't sure if it was from surprise or to determine if she was trustworthy.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss O'Connell," he replied with a nod of his head.

“Grayson. Libby Grayson,” she snapped. A look of hurt flashed over Rick’s face. Libby pushed it out of her mind, focusing on the ceiling as the needle moved in and out of her skin.

Ardeth said nothing, turning back to the matter at hand.  "To answer your question, Rick, for once I cannot tell you who these people are, or what they wish to attain, though I would assume it is power. Isn't it always power?" he asked this to everyone and no one. "There are a series of riddles in Karnak, pertaining to seven sacred scorpions."

Jonathan instantly perked up. "Just hold on a second, old friend. Davey—he's the bloke that attacked at the hotel tonight—was talking about collecting scorpions. I figured he was trying to find the Scorpion King's riches."

"Unfortunately, no," Ardeth replied. "At least we know how to defeat the Scorpion King. This… this comes from a legend far older than that. There are a series of riddles in Karnak, written by Cleopatra, regarding the hiding spots of seven ancient scorpions, protectors of the goddess Isis."

_That's impossible,_ Libby thought _. That stupid statue couldn't have belonged to a goddess. And even if it did, how did it end up in a Cairo hotel?_

Ardeth continued. "When her husband, Osiris, was killed by Seth, Isis was taken prisoner…"

OOO

**_In the Nile Delta..._ **

_Isis pushed her long, black hair away from her sweat-dampened face. Though her heart was heavy, she refused to allow her captor to see her cry as she weaved her husband's funeral shroud. She would not allow Seth to get the best of her—he could not know she was pregnant. Her first priority was to protect her child. So she played the obedient captive, staring at the loom, fingering the soft linen that would protect her beloved Osiris's body in the afterlife._

_A rap at the locked door instantly drew her attention from the fabric. Seth never knocked, just burst thoughtlessly into the room to scream taunts and threats toward those mortals she was sworn to protect._

" _Isis, it is I, Thoth!"_

_She gasped in delight. Finally, a sign that maybe, just maybe, things would be alright. Rushing to the door, she whispered, "I'm locked in."_

_Instantly, she heard the intricate mechanisms moving. The door swung open, and her beloved friend enveloped her in a hug, conveying his sorrow at the death of Osiris and joy at finding her safe. Rarely did he, the wisest among her friends, show his emotions so openly._

" _You must get away from here. Isis, you can only hide your pregnancy so long. Seth may not be the most intelligent, but his power…"_

" _I know, Thoth. But I can't hide away from Egypt, our people need me! What of the mothers? And the children?"_

" _What of your own child?" Thoth replied, and she knew he was right, as he always was. "You can continue your work, I have found a way for you to travel unharmed to a hiding spot." From a cage outside the door, he released seven scorpions, larger than those found in the desert, each a beautiful gold color. They scattered across the floor quickly._

" _I asked Mafdet for them." Isis thought of her friend, a young woman with a head of beautiful golden hair she kept in a braid, who had power over the snakes and scorpions of Egypt. "They will protect you on your journey. Petet, Tjetet, and Matet will walk before you. Mesetet and Mesetetef will guard your to the right and left, and Tefen and Befen will walk behind. Move quickly and quietly, hide amidst the reeds if you must. If I find a safe house before you do, I will find you."_

_Gratitude filling her, she embraced Thoth again. They did not say goodbye, because it wasn't goodbye. They would see each other soon, once the threat of Seth was gone. As she walked out the door she heard Thoth ask a final question. "Have you picked a name yet, Isis?"_

_She turned with a smile. "Horus."_

_Ten days it had been since she left her captivity, wandering what seemed to be the whole of Egypt in search of a hiding place. With the seven scorpions at her side, providing a guard that nearly surpassed the greatest Egyptian army, the kicks of her son's tiny feet served as a reminder of what was at stake._

_As evening approached on the tenth day, Isis entered a small village. There were no inns for her to rest, so she approached an opulent home, so large that she was sure there would be extra rooms that she might borrow for the night. There was gold in her pocket to compensate the owner for a night's rest. Knocking, the lady of the house opened the door. Isis felt the woman's eyes on her, on the tattered, mud-stained clothes that she'd worn since the day of the battle. While she longed to be clean, the dirt helped in hiding her identity. "What do you want?" the woman sneered._

" _Please, my lady, all I ask is for a place to stay tonight."_

_The woman looked appalled at such a request. "Get on with you, girl. There's no room for you here." She slammed the door._

_Disheartened, Isis returned to the road, preparing to walk on to the next town. "Excuse me, miss?" a shy voice rose. Isis immediately turned around. The girl who'd spoken was young, maybe twenty at the oldest. Her manner of dress, as well as the calluses on the hands that grabbed her arm, indicated she was poor. "Miss, my home is not large, but I can offer you a bed for the night, and a simple meal before you return to your travels in the morning."_

_Isis smiled gratefully, the first smile she'd let pass her lips in a long time. "I would be most appreciative…."_

" _Sheriti. My name is Sheriti."_

**_That night..._ **

_A scream from the village woke Isis from her deep slumber. At first, convinced that it was Seth, she prepared to run. A hysterical voice from the streets shouted, "Help me! Oh somebody, help my son, he's dying! Please, oh please! Can't anyone help?"_

_Isis, followed closely by Sheriti, exited the house. It was the noblewoman who'd refused her a room. In her arms was a young boy, unmoving. "What happened?" Sheriti asked._

" _He was bitten by a scorpion!" It was then Isis noticed Tefen was scampering back into Sheriti's home, the other scorpions waiting in the doorway._

_The woman's sobs broke Isis's heart, and thinking of her own unborn son, she took the boy from his mother's arms. Whispering words she'd learned, repeating each scorpion's name in turn, she drew the poison from the boy. A look of recognition passed over both Sheriti and the noblewoman._

" _Isis, I am ashamed," the woman cried, holding her son close to her. "Please, I cannot take back my words. But I ask you, and the peasant girl, to take all I own. Whatever I have, is yours. So long as I have my son, I will survive."_

" _You are forgiven. I ask that you ensure that Sheriti is well taken care of. I must take my leave now, and continue my journey, but take care of each other. And remember this lesson, good woman." Both women curtsied out of respect to the goddess._

_Though angry at the scorpions, she summoned them to her side, and Isis continued on her journey._

OOO

"Isis soon found a safe home," Ardeth continued. "However; all was not well in the village. Once her journey was completed, Isis sent the scorpions back to Sheriti, fearful that Seth would discover that the girl had aided her. She was right to be fearful, as he attacked the girl soon after, leaving her near death, and stole the seven scorpions. He cursed the seven scorpions, turning them to gold. If he was ever killed, these seven united would resurrect him from the afterlife, his soul taking the body of whoever united the seven, giving them- and him- immortal power."

Ardeth paused to allow them to take in the story. "Eventually, Seth was defeated by Isis, who hid the seven scorpions, leaving riddles to their location to the pharaoh. Each generation passed these riddles to the next. However; Cleopatra, during her reign, felt threatened by Caesar's presence in Egypt. Though they were lovers, she feared he may try to gain Seth's power. She hid the scorpions again, and had the clues inscribed at Karnak, the only place the seven could be destroyed. I believe these people want to unite the seven scorpions, but I cannot be certain. "

He looked around the room. Alex and Evy were clearly intrigued, and Rick, sitting between the two, was unconsciously checking how many rounds were left in his pistol. Jonathan's face was blocked by the flask that, though refilled when they reached the house, was quickly emptying again. And Libby, the woman who'd never been through this before, was looking at everyone as if they should be institutionalized.

"There are two questions I want answered," Ardeth stated. "Who is behind this? And why did they attack the hotel you were staying in?"

The room was momentarily silent. Then Libby spoke up. "I think I can answer that."


	9. A Family Discussion

"Libby," Rick began. She sensed he was trying to be patient with her. "I highly doubt Davey was capable of planning-"

 

"No shit, Richard," she shot back, certain her brother thought she was naïve in her assessment of their situation. Sitting and listening to the group's conversation, Libby had already figured out that this wasn't the first time the family faced danger in Egypt. She was sure her experiences couldn't compare, but, for once, she knew she was right. "You think? Davey couldn't tie his shoes without someone telling him what to do. No, he's not the one behind the attack…"

 

"Then who is it?" Ardeth barked impatiently, and Libby jumped. He was more intimidating than the man who stitched her cheek.

 

Once calm, she answered with certainty. "Arabella Chatham, my adoptive mother."

 

"You… you got adopted after I left?" Rick asked in surprise. Libby could understand his shock. It was a rarity that any of the children at the orphanage were adopted. Most either died young after catching any one of the dozens of ailments that swept through the ranks of the abandoned or ran away like Rick.

 

No one wanted the leftovers.

 

"It wasn't the world's most pleasant experience," she uttered under her breath with a pointed glance. She didn't want to talk about what happened to her, didn't trust them enough to let them know any more of her history than necessary. "Arabella Chatham and her husband Edwin adopted me about a year after you left. All they wanted was the box, and they were willing to use… well, they were willing to do whatever was necessary. They kept trying and trying, and I wouldn’t give the box up. As much as I hated you, Rick, I never let go of that damned thing. It was all I had left of you."

 

She shuddered a bit at the painful memories- both the physical and the mental pain. The room was silent as the words left her mouth, a combination of sadness and pity on the faces of those around her.

 

Libby hated it. For a moment, she almost appreciated the idiot box thief- at least he was too drunk to understand what she was saying.  

 

"After one… incident… I knew I had to get out. I ran, was going to leave Egypt, head for England. That's when they hired Davey, to try and get the box. I didn't find that until after he stole it.” She nodded her head at Jonathan, who had stood to refill his flask. “When I heard Davey and Edwin talking downstairs in the building we lived in, I knew it was either them or me. That night… I… I…"

 

She couldn't say the words out loud. It had been necessary, she knew, to shoot Edwin. A kill or be killed mentality had reigned that night. It didn't make the act of holding the pistol in her hands, pulling the cool, steel trigger any easier.

 

"You shot Edwin and Davey to protect yourself," Rick finished. "No one could blame you, Libs."

 

"You think I don’t know that? It’s just not something…" As the trailed off, she knew she had to get the rest of the words out. The memories, on top of losing her entire world that night, would break her if she didn’t put it out of her mind. “There's not a doubt in my mind that it's Arabella leading the way. She wants power, and she wants revenge. She won't stop 'til she has it. I don't know if that stupid box has anything to do with all this, or how she knows about scorpions and gods, but Davey has been her little minion since I met him and I highly doubt he would have betrayed her."

 

From across the table, Rick grabbed her hand awkwardly and patted it. She tried to pull away, but he held tighter, an attempt at brotherly affection. She didn’t believe it.

 

"Are you absolutely certain?" Ardeth asked, calmer than he was before. Libby only nodded in response. She didn't want to talk anymore, just to sleep.

 

"That name…" Evy finally added to the conversation, her eyes furrowed as she came out of deep thought. "Chatham, it sounds so familiar."

 

"It bloody well should, old girl," Jonathan brightened up quickly, as if paying attention for the first time in the whole conversation. His words slurred slightly as the topic penetrated his far from sober mind. "She and good old Eddie were donors to Bembridge and amateur adventurers. They died almost thirty years ago trying to find—"

 

"Oh my god, Hamunaptra! Jon you're right."

 

"That's impossible!" Libby exclaimed. "I was ten when they adopted me. If what you say is true, they died the year I was born!"

 

"Well that doesn't make much sense!" Jonathan chuckled, the gravity of the situation far beyond his comprehension in his state. "That would mean they faked their death!"

 

"Thank you, Jon, for your ingenious revelation," Rick muttered, reaching across the table to pluck the flask from his hands. This elicited a pout from Jonathan, who petulantly sighed and folded his arms across his chest.

 

"They knew about Hamunaptra, about Imhotep," Evy whispered, instantly drawing Libby and everyone else's attention. The light in her eyes, combined with the look on of shock and genius on her face, indicated to Libby that maybe, just maybe, her brother's wife had a wisdom far beyond her years. "Arabella and Edwin found Hamunaptra, and realized that raising Imhotep could give them the power they wanted. But when they found the sarcophagus, they needed the key, so they faked their own deaths so that no one would grow suspicious of their search. When they saw it in Libby's hands, the obvious course of action was to adopt her, but she ran away before they got it. We ruined their plans completely when Jonathan stole the box and we destroyed Imhotep."

 

"See Evy, I told you it was a bloody good thing I took the damned box!" Jonathan cried triumphantly, slinging an arm around Libby's shoulder with a jolt. Removing it from her shoulder, she promptly placed it back in his lap."

 

"But how could that lead them to the seven scorpions?" Ardeth asked, rubbing his forehead as if the tension had become unbearable.

 

"The Chatham's aren't stupid, they were adventurers in their own right, as Jonathan said. Their knowledge of Egypt is profound. I'm sure they knew of the legend and easily translated the clues at Karnak. Having found Hamunaptra before, now it's just a matter of obtaining the scorpions," Evy finished.

 

"I hate those blasted scorpions…." Jonathan mumbled, his head nearly falling onto Libby's shoulder as he passed out. She shoved him hard the opposite way, the jolt of nearly falling off the chair bringing him around.

 

"It's all speculation, of course, but knowing who the Chatham's are, and from what Libby said…"

 

"It makes sense," Rick said. "So what do we do now?"

 

"We find the other scorpions," Ardeth answered quickly. "And we take those they have already obtained. They have three right now, found at Karnak, Memphis, and Meidum. I had my men copy the inscription as we left Karnak." He passed the parchment to Evelyn, who spread the delicate paper across the table. The hieroglyphs were written in shaky, inexperienced hand.

 

Next to his mother, Alex yawned loudly, struggling to keep his eyes open. "Oh goodness, it's past midnight. Time for bed Alex, right now," Evy said, filled with the motherly concern that Libby had longed for when Arabella had first adopted her.

 

"But mum I want to hear the clues!" the boy whined back. His attention during the story and all of the adults' chatter impressed Libby. At that age, she would have been halfway lost in imagination. If there was one person in this group she enjoyed passing time with, it was definitely her nephew.

 

"Listen to your mother, Alex. It's been a long day for all of us."

 

"But-" Libby nearly laughed at Rick's attempt at giving Alex a stern glare, but it seemed to work.

 

"Libby, would you mind horribly bringing Alex upstairs? He can show you to the guest room while you're there," Evelyn asked firmly, and both Alex and Libby knew there was no debating the woman's request.

 

"C'mon Aunt Libby, I can show you the rest of the house on the way upstairs!" Feeling herself dragged away by Alex's firm grasp on her wrist, she could only hope that there wasn't much left to see in the house, and that she could cuddle under the warm covers of the guest bed soon.

 

The rest of the family might be preparing for adventure, but she was now homeless, jobless, and a target for Arabella. It was nothing she hadn’t faced before… so why did it seem so terrifying this time around?

 

OOO

 

"So why exactly did you want Libby out of the room, Evy?" Ardeth asked. Rick raised an eyebrow in surprise, and Evelyn had to admit to herself she was surprised that Ardeth had figured her out so easily.

 

"There's something in that story that bothers me quite a bit. I didn't want to scare her. She's been through enough for tonight."

 

"What is it?" she saw her husband's eyes full of concern.

The past ten years, although they'd settled in England, had kept the family in constant contact with the Egyptian government. She knew how the guilt of abandoning his sister wracked Rick. Now that she'd been found, the poor girl would probably never be allowed to leave the house without providing Rick with a detailed itinerary of her plans. Not that Evelyn minded, Libby seemed like a sweet girl- woman, really- and she was kind to Alex. It would be a pleasant change to have another woman in the group.

 

"Of all the orphanages in Egypt- not even that! Of all the places in Egypt, in the world where that key might have been, it just happened to belong to the child the Chatham's adopted? I highly doubt that. There's more to this story than I think Libby even knows, and that's what worries me."

 

Rick sank back in his chair, and matching looks of worry were evident on both his and Evelyn's face.

 

"Then, my friends," Ardeth said, trying to encourage his friends. "We must set to work on this translation."

 

After all, the sooner they started, the sooner they would all be safe again.

 

OOO

 

Libby stood awkwardly to the side of the bed, not sure if it was appropriate to tuck in an eleven year old. Her experience among children had been at the orphanage, pushing the other girls to get at the toys she wanted and hiding behind her brother to keep the big boys from hitting her. Alex, meanwhile, had settled himself in quite comfortably, and though he didn't wish to admit it, was ready to allow his head to hit the pillow. One question, however, bothered the boy.

 

"Aunt Libby, are you going to stay with us when we leave Egypt?"

 

"Dunno kiddo," she replied softly, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. She had her doubts, but she didn’t want to disappoint the boy. "Maybe. I like you a lot, and you're mom has been so nice to me. But I've been on my own a long time. I wouldn't know what to do with myself. Besides, your dad and I are… well, I have major trust issues with your dad. And I don't think your uncle is too fond of me either."

 

"Are you scared?" he asked.

 

"What, because of Arabella and Davey? A little, but I've spent half my life avoiding them. I'm used to it. Now, shouldn't you get to bed? Sooner you sleep, sooner you can hear what your mom found out about the clues."

 

A feeling of sadness swept over Alex as he realized that his aunt had been on the run since she was his age. It didn’t seem fair, that she had to struggle so much, all by herself. Closing his eyes, Alex decided it would be his new personal mission to make Libby to stay.

 

OOO

 

Though she'd been tempted to just fall asleep in the guestroom, Libby found herself in desperate need of fresh air and a cigarette. Stepping out the back door, she walked halfway down the porch stairs and sat on the white-washed wood. Ardeth's men had cleaned the yard well, and besides the crushed flowers, she never would have guessed a mini-battle had raged here just a few short hours ago.

 

Striking a match she'd taken from her pocket, she lit the cigarette.

 

"Figured you were out here when you weren't in bed, Libs," she heard Rick say behind her.

 

"It's a lot to take in," she replied, keeping her voice as neutral as possible.

 

"Understandable," he said, taking a seat next to her. "I looked for you. I know you're angry, but once I realized…. You have to believe I looked for you. Jonathan too. We scoured Cairo, left word with everyone we thought could be of some help. You've every right to be angry, but know that I realized my mistake, and I did try."

 

She sighed deeply, smoke dispersing in the air. "I'm not angry, Richie. Anger was a long time ago. When you left me, I waited for you. You said you'd come back, and I waited. Mr. Ryland thought I'd lost it when I refused to move from the window. I threw a fit when he tried. And then when it hit me that you wouldn't come back, I was absolutely furious."

 

"And now?"

 

"Now? I don't know. You're my big brother though, I'll always love you somewhere in my heart. But I don’t trust you. I'd like to, but what you did… it took a long time to get over. Between that and everything that's happened the past few years, I have a hard time trusting anyone. "

  
  


Rick nodded, indicating his understanding, and gave her half a hug. Though she wanted to pull away, she leaned into it. Best to make peace, considering it looked like they'd need each other to get through this horrible mess.

 

"So I have to ask you," she said, directing the conversation away from the past. "Does Jonathan always drink like that?"

 

Rick laughed, eliciting a half-smile from his sister. "Only when we're in Egypt. We've had some rather… interesting experiences here. I'll have to tell you about them someday. The rest of the time, he's slightly less drunk."

 

"Tipsy?"

 

"No, still drunk. Just not quite so much as in Egypt. Which reminds me…" She felt a weight drop into her lap. Picking the object up into the light, she saw the golden scorpion. "When I dragged his sorry ass off to bed, he gave that to me. Said you'd probably feel better about coming with us if you held onto it yourself. At least, I think that's what he was saying. Like I said—"

 

"Drunk as a skunk?"

 

"Exactly." This time, she grinned.

 

From inside, she heard a loud cry of happiness. "Rick! Libby! I have it translated! Get in here!"

 

"She's not bossy at all, is she?" Libby asked Rick. As she followed him back inside, she thought that maybe, just maybe she could learn to trust her brother again. And if Jonathan handing the scorpion over to Rick was any sign, she might be able to trust him too.

 

 


	10. Cleopatra's Legacy

“Rick, Libby, hurry up!” Evelyn’s insistent voice carried through the hall onto the porch. From upstairs, Libby could hear the patter of Alex’s feet, and as she walked through the door she saw him sitting at the foot of the stairs to listen in. Rick hadn’t noticed him in the shadows, so she gave the boy a wink and a smile.

 

In the dining room, Evelyn was scribbling on a scrap of paper, translating the hieroglyphs aloud in hushed whispers. Ardeth Bay stood over her shoulder, reading each word before the ink had dried. “What have you got for us, Evy?” Rick asked, his eyes displaying a combination of trepidation and excitement. Libby felt the same way.

 

“Most of it is done, this last clue is giving me trouble,” she babbled enthusiastically. Evelyn didn’t seem to have a care in the world, her mind thinking of a thousand years ago and picturing Cleopatra in her royal palace, dictating the clues. “Oh well, we have six of seven, right? It’s a start.”

 

She paused. “Alexander O’Connell! If you’re going to sit on the stairs, you might as well try to wake your uncle up so he can be here for this too.”

 

Ten minutes they waited impatiently, as the pounding of feet and moans of the drunk resonated through the upper floor. Alex bounded downstairs, nearly breaking his neck running to hear what his mother had translated. Jonathan barely made it to a seat, and his head hit the table with a crack and a moan. “Read. Now,” he demanded grumpily.

 

“Wait, wait!” Rick said loudly, grabbing Evy’s arm as she raised it to eyelevel. “There isn’t anything in here that says ‘if this tablet is read aloud, angry mummies will rise and destroy humanity,’ right?”

 

“I already looked, Rick,” Evy said with a sigh. “You’d think I go around raising mummies every day. One, isolated incident…”

 

“Could we read this before _he_ dies?” Libby asked, gesturing at Jonathan and instantly getting their attention. Jonathan shot her a miserable look that might have expressed just the slightest bit of gratitude. Not that she’d made the comment for his sake, mind you. She was still tired, and that guest bed she had avoided a short time ago was looking more tempting than ever.

 

“ _My love has betrayed me_ ,” Evy started, reading what she had translated. “By love, I believe she means Julius Caesar. “

 

“How do you know that?” Libby asked, her curiosity overcoming her exhaustion.

 

“Educated guess, in a way. Clues in the text,” Evelyn responded patiently, a smile crossing her face. “I can show you later, if you’d like--”

 

“Bloody hell woman, read the clues and let the drunk sleep!” Jonathan whined.

 

“Moving on,” Evelyn muttered, as the more impatient members of the group sighed in relief that she’d continued read.

 

“ _Not in deed, but in thought. He knows where the power lies, and seeks to obtain my seven friends, so pointedly guarded by those who came before me. I send my son to Rome to seek out Cassius, to ensure power remains mine alone. Herein, I make certain that Seth, He who can deliver power and danger greater than any army in this mortal life, remains far from this earthly paradise. I bid farewell to my seven, my lifelong friends, who depart to the safest places in the farthest reaches of the earth._

 

_Beneath these hallowed grounds, to the Theban triad devoted, lies a temple to the love of Isis, protector of women and owner of these sacred guardians. I lay one golden statue at his altar, tribute to why they were first made._

_Next, the white-walled city, leader of our nation. I leave my friend in the temple of the creator, he who dreamed in his heart the world, and made it be. From his immortal rest, he guides the craftsmen who make such works of pure gold. Now I leave him a display of their talent._

_The third shall rest along the sacred road, the way of the sphinxes. Where Menkauhor built a resting place where he never rested, the tomb hides more than meets the eye. Look above, and find you have lost your way. Look below, and the path will be clear._

_A desert tower, one of four, yet incomplete. Though the death chamber lies empty now, I shall fill it with a golden warrior. Snefru’s work long lost is now fulfilled. It holds a body, though not human, to remain for all eternity._

 

_Amidst the scrolls, the greatest minds have writ, I leave a fifth faithful friend. Study there all you wish, he shall not be revealed! A canopic jar, none would dare open out of respect for those who went before; the gold will remain hidden from all._

_To sate his desire for riches and power, I leave one in the hands of my love. We bring it to his homeland, to the place where my love for him unfurled at his feet; his expansive project of joy and entertainment. I beg him to leave tribute to my land, my kingdom, and he agrees. I shall leave my friend there, and pray that my love shall accept that much and forget these golden warriors exist._

_The last I leave in that place which Isis first chose to hide her guardian. I leave you naught but what she left me, to continue your search.”_

 

Evelyn paused. “This is where the last clue is. I just… I’m not sure if it’s poor copying, or an older Egyptian dialect, but I have no idea what these words mean. I don’t even see symbols I recognize. Then she finishes below.”

 

“ _I leave you my words, not as a guide to find these golden warriors. The union of their powers will yield destruction, tempt the fates of turmoil, a destiny I wish upon no one. I leave these words to one who, if Seth’s mighty power is threatened, will defeat this evil. At the City of the Dead, united, these seven friends will bring the end. United here, at this pylon of the Theban Triad, their powers will be rendered useless. May the gods ever travel at your side, and may we meet again in the Fields of Hetep and Iaru.”_

The room was silent. The words that Evelyn had spoken, that had been written by the youthful Cleopatra stunned Libby. Never before had she heard something so poetically written that had such devastating capabilities. Repeating the words in her head as her sister-in-law spoke, she felt herself dozing off, head on the table.

 

OOO

 

As Evelyn finished speaking, one thought crossed Jonathan's mind, which he felt it was essential to voice aloud. “Bloody hell, if they’re going to wreak havoc on the world, why on earth would you write down where you put the sodding scorpions,” he bemoaned. Next to him he saw Libby shoot up off the table, wide awake again. She shot him a nasty glare, but he didn’t care. The booze was wearing off, and the hangover was kicking in. The pound, pound, pound of his brain against his head was miserable.

 

“Evy, do you at least have an idea which clues we can ignore? Which scorpions do we have?” Ardeth asked.

 

Evelyn didn’t have a chance to answer. The back door burst open. Rick and Ardeth jumped up, sword drawn and gun loaded. Libby had pushed her chair away from the table and looked ready to either dive under the table or run. _Maybe we do have a bit in common..._ Jonathan smirked, relieved someone in the group might actually dread fighting as much as he did. Their fears were unnecessary though, as two of Ardeth’s men entered, dragging a limp, bloody body between them. “Chieftain Bay, we found him trying to enter through the back gate.”

 

Libby was up and out of her seat, concern etched across her face. “Oh my god, Kaysar? Put him down, I know him.”

 

The two men didn’t seem to listen. It took a moment, but Jonathan finally realized that the man hanging between the Medjai warriors was the hotel bellhop. Ignoring his throbbing head, he watched as Libby gently lifted the young man’s head.

 

“What do you wish us to do with him?” one of the men asked.

 

“Would you put him down? He’s hurt!” Libby demanded. A nod of the head from Ardeth, and the young man fell to the floor.

 

“Don’t drop him, you idiots!” the girl screeched. Ardeth raised an eyebrow in surprise, and Jonathan struggled not to chuckle. Libby was most definitely an O'Connell. Only Rick could speak to Ardeth Bay and his men like that and live.

 

“Miss Grayson,” he heard Kaysar whisper.

 

“I’m right here, Kaysar,” she replied softly. Evelyn had gone into the kitchen and returned with a damp towel. Taking a seat on the floor across from Libby, she wiped his face clean of blood and whispered little words of comfort to him like any mother would.

 

“That man… the man with the gun. He made it out.”

 

“Did he attack you?” Libby asked, her guilt at exposing the young man to danger obvious. She maintained a tight grip on his hand, letting him know that she was there. It was a stark contrast to the ornery and defensive woman that he’d previously met, and Jonathan wished there was something he could do for the injured kid.

 

“I was there during the explosion. Roof caved in on me. There’s something important,” he said. “When I got out, that man who led the attack was gathering others. They’re looking for you, Miss Grayson.” Having delivered his message, it looked like Kaysar had finally given in to the extreme pain he felt, and passed out.

 

Sharing a look with Rick, Jonathan knew instantly that Evy’s hunch was right. Davey and Arabella wanted more than the scorpions. They wanted Libby too.

 

“So what do we do now?” Jonathan asked.

 

“We need to get to Alexandria.” Alex spoke up, his head peering around the scribbles his mother had written. Jon had nearly forgotten his nephew was in the room, but evidently in the commotion he'd taken to studying the translation. “And then we need to get a boat.”

 

“Why?” Rick asked.

 

“The clues, dad. We need to go to Italy.”

 

OOO

 

The velour of the train seats rubbed gently against Libby’s cheek as she woke from her nap. Two hours on the train, three since they left the house. She knew for a fact she'd fallen asleep in the car, and wondered who'd carried her onto the train. There was something heavy lying across her left side, and shifting, she found that it was Jonathan slumped over in a deep sleep.

 

“Get offa me!” she mumbled, moving him to the other side of the seat with an elbow to the side. The annoying man began to wake up.

 

“Just let a man sleep, woman!”          

 

“Do I look like a pillow?”

 

In the hours since Evelyn had translated Cleopatra’s message, all had been rushed. Ardeth Bay, who she had discovered was not quite as frightening as he came across, had kindly said that he would leave some of his men with Kaysar. He would live and recover, though the damage to his leg might cause him to walk with a limp the rest of his life. Libby had begged to stay with the boy – one of the few people she could actually consider a friend, unlike the long-missing family that had been thrust upon her – but that idea was shot down, despite her lengthy and loud arguments. She was safer with the O’Connells and Ardeth, not with her friend. The Medjai had left with Kaysar, but not before she promised the kid that, as soon as all had settled and he had recovered, she would help him find a new job.

 

Evelyn informed them that she would explain the clues later, insisting that that Rick had better go and get some train tickets. She’d then set Jonathan and Alex to packing supplies, and when it became evident that Libby would be coming with them, brought her upstairs. Thrusting several pairs of clothes suitable for the desert into her hands, she encouraged Libby to change her clothes. She hadn't noticed that she was covered in soot and blood until that moment.

 

She was now dressed comfortably in khaki pants, leather boots, and a light white shirt. The clothes were a bit big, as Evy was taller and a bit heavier than she. Nonetheless, she was grateful to the other woman for her kindness.

 

For the first time in her life, she was leaving Cairo. By the morning she would be in Alexandria, then a boat to Italy. It was incredible to think, if she just ignored the circumstances of her travel.

           

“So Evy, you never explained to us why we’re going to Italy,” Rick stated. The two were still wide awake, though Alex was now passed out from exhaustion across their laps.

 

“It’s really quite simple,” she started, which earned the stares of the other four. Simple in Evelyn’s terms was definitely not the equivalent of simple in an ordinary person’s terms. “Ardeth said they’d found the scorpions at Memphis, Karnak, and Medium. So I found those clues first. Karnak is dedicated to the Theban Triad, Amun, Mut, and Khons. There’s a temple to Osiris there as well—Isis’s love. Memphis is the white-walled city, and was the early capital of Egypt. The temple of Ptah, who created the world, was in that city. There’s scorpion number two. Pharaoh Snefru was rumored to have four pyramids, the last of which was incomplete and lay empty. That’s the pyramid at Meidum. Those are the three scorpions that Davey has found.”

 

“And Libby’s scorpion?” Jonathan asked.

 

“I figured that one out by luck,” Evelyn admitted sheepishly. “The other morning you asked me to examine a canopic jar you wanted to sell. It didn’t have the typical wear you’d see from being in a tomb. In fact, if anything, it had water damage. I couldn’t figure it out until I read the clue. The scrolls that the greatest minds wrote were in the Library at Alexandria. She put it in a canopic jar, the canopic jar that _you_ sold this morning.”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Libby asked.

 

“But why Italy, old mum?”   

 

“It all comes down to Julius Caesar. ‘Where my love unfurled--’ Cleopatra, determined to meet Caesar, was said to roll herself in a Persian Carpet and present it to him as a gift. It was unrolled not in his villa, but in the Circus Maximus. Caesar's one love, outside of power, was watching the chariot races, and he devoted quite a bit of money to expanding the complex. It was there he built a tribute to Egypt for Cleopatra, an obelisk. If I’m right, we’ll find the next scorpion there.”

 


	11. Adrift

“You bloody well better be kidding me you little brat!” Arabella Chatham shrieked, her pretentious, posh accent degrading to the street slang of her youth. Davey cringed, a natural reaction to the sound of her grating voice after all these years. Her reddened cheeks matched the few red strands of hair left amidst the gray. “You let that girl get away alive?”

 

“Arabella--“

 

“Don’t Arabella me, David Edward Chatham! Edwin’s been dead for years, and nephew or not, I can cut you off whenever I wish. He didn’t leave you or your whore of a mother a penny.”

 

“You take that back!” Davey shouted. Allowing emotions to get the best of him, he cocked his fist, ready to punch his benefactor. He had no qualms that Arabella was a woman or his aunt.

 

His mother had eloped when she was young with an Italian business man, and was abandoned when she was with child. She now resided in an asylum outside of Rome, her mind lost somewhere with her youth, dreaming and waiting for the love of her life to return. Davey had been given to Arabella and Edwin after a few brief years of watching his mother’s mind slip away, and was sent to boarding schools through his own childhood. That was, until they'd adopted Elizabeth.

 

Libby was stubborn, Libby ran away, Libby was the reason he was stuck doing their dirty work.

 

Arabella never allowed Davey to forget that he was unwanted in her home, only there because he could be useful in her plans. Still, Davey stuck around. Power was something he’d never had before in his life. It was close at hand now. Once Arabella revealed the location of the seventh scorpion to him, she was as good as dead.

 

There were still some problems with his plan, of course. No good plan ever came easily. At sixty, Arabella was still a force to be reckoned with. That, and he had no idea how to get to Hamunaptra. Those scorpions were worth nothing without the location of the city.

 

“I’m sure they’ve figured out our plan too,” Arabella continued berating him. “The O’Connell family has always been too smart for their own good. That’s how their parents got themselves killed.”

 

“I have men tracking them…”

 

“Judging from their _ever_ so competent work thus far, I’m incredibly comforted by this fact,” she snapped.

 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Arabella,” Davey sighed. His aunt was insane. The sooner he coaxed the seventh clue out of her, the easier his life would be.

 

“How about you tell me how you let this disaster happen?”

 

Davey didn’t have an answer.

 

“That’s what I thought. Now I want this fixed, David. We’re leaving port tomorrow morning at seven. I want that scorpion in my hand when I walk up the gang plank.”

 

As Davey sulked out of the room, Arabella looked the man over. Three scorpions in her hand, a fourth found, and the location of two more known. Once Davey had found someone to translate the seventh clue, he was as good as dead.

 

OOO

 

_Do not vomit… do not vomit…_

Libby repeated the mantra over and over in her head as she rushed to the edge of the ship. The secluded section of the deck on which their rooms were located allowed her to evade the eyes of other travelers for the most part. This was most definitely a good thing, as the heaving sensation in her stomach threatened to overwhelm her again. They’d been on the ship for a day and a half—ironically (or not) the same amount of time she’d been sick. Less than an hour was left on their voyage. She was determined to do something other than throw up.

 

As she leaned over the edge, she allowed the cool Mediterranean breezes to hit her face. Gone were the hot, dry Egyptian winds that burned her skin as they rolled through the Cairo streets. She enjoyed this sensation. There was a whole world outside of Egypt, and now she would finally get to see a part of it.

 

The door to one of the cabins shut with a slam. “Aunt Libby, are you going to throw up again?” she heard Alex ask.

 

Pushing aside the urge to snap back at the boy, she nodded quickly. It wasn’t his fault she was dying slowly on this miserable death ship.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll go get Uncle Jon!” Alex cried, happy to help. “He’s really good at sea-sickness!” The boy sped back into the cabin, dodging a passing steward and ignoring her desperate pleas to find anyone other than Jonathan.

 

Letting her arms dangle over the side of the boat, her hair forming a curtain around her face, Libby felt her stomach settling a bit. She took in the deep blue of the water, squinting to see if she could find some sort of fish.

 

“Wouldn’t it be lovely if life was always like this, Libby-love?” She jumped in surprise as Jonathan’s voice came from behind her, his hand resting on the small of her back.

 

Whirling around quickly, she was prepared to berate him for the heinous nickname he’d just bestowed upon her. “What the hell--” she managed to get out before the queasy feeling returned to her stomach.

 

With a groan, she leaned back over the railing, almost wishing that Arabella would come and put an end to this unfortunate experience. As she prepared to empty her stomach again, she moaned, “Mother of God, get me off this ship.”

 

Jon’s hand, which had remained on her back, began moving in gentle circles. “Don’t argue,” Jonathan said softly as she turned to tell him off. “Alex used to get seasick all the time. It worked for him; it should work for you too.”

 

“Thanks,” Libby muttered, grateful as she felt her stomach began to settle. Soon, a pleasant tingling sensation began moving up her back. “But seriously, if I ever hear Libby-Love out of your mouth again, you’re a dead man.”

 

“Right. After last night’s display I’m practically quaking in my boots,” he shot back wryly.

_How dare he? It was a joke, and he has to go and insult me like I’m a child._ Annoyance in combination with the frustration of being sick became irrational anger. Stepping away from the railing, she retorted, “I’m sorry I’m not a ruthless killer like you and my brother. I actually have a guilt mechanism. I know the difference between right and wrong.”

           

“Is that why you shot Davey and Chatham?”

 

Her jaw dropped. Slapping him hard across the face hard, she turned on one heal and stalked away. She knew she'd overreacted, she knew she should apologize. But Jonathan didn’t know what had happened that night, the events that _his_ actions had put in place, causing her to lose the last supposed friend she had in the world. Her patience with Jonathan was short and her tolerance for him was low.

 

Though her stomach had settled, she really didn't feel any better.

 

OOO

 

 _Evy says play nice, so you go and bugger it all up. Excellent work, old boy. Really, top notch,_ Jonathan berated himself. Pushing himself away from the railing, he followed Libby along the deck of the ship.

 

“Libby, wait!” he called, but the girl ignored him.

_I was just joking anyway, why is she taking it so personally? Pig-headed, that’s what she is._ As he followed Libby, he felt his shoulder connect with another passenger, and stopped to help the man right himself. Dark hair, tan skin, sunken grey eyes looking up at him. Taking two steps after Libby, Jonathan stopped in his path, recognizing the face he’d just seen.

 

Slowly, he turned around, hand reaching towards the gun he’d reloaded that morning. Davey was still looking in the direction he’d been going. Maybe he hadn’t recognized him. Their few encounters had been in dark bars and burning building, there was a fair chance…

 

Or not. Davey was trying to inconspicuously withdraw his own firearm from its holster. Throwing caution aside, Jonathan gave himself a running start, jumping on Davey’s back. The other man hit the floor, letting out a gasp of surprise. Two guns slid along the deck, away from the brawl.

 

Rolling over and shoving Jonathan aside, he heard Davey growl, “They told me you were a drunk.”

 

“Sometimes I surprise people,” Jonathan replied, taking the advantage and standing. Pulling Davey up by the collar, he dragged the younger man to the edge of the deck. “Do you know what happened the last time someone attacked me on a boat? I chucked him overboard, my friend.”

_Alright, a slight exaggeration,_ Jonathan told himself _. Angry Medjai had set the boat on fire and I jumped overboard. The fact was, people were in the water._

 

With a shove, Davey was over the railing and in the water, the boat sailing on toward Italy while he was left behind to tread water. “You can pass that message along to your boss!” Jonathan shouted when the man emerged from beneath the water. With a satisfied smirk, he turned from the railing to continue his quest to apologize.

 

A muffled voice rose from the sea. “Do it yourself, you limey bastard. She’s still on the boat!”

 

It was then he saw her- an older woman, gray-red hair flying wildly in the wind, with a gun pointed directly at him. Arabella Chatham could only be described as an imposing woman. _Of course, the one time I go in on my own. How does Rick avoid these situations?_

 

A gunshot rang out, and Jonathan closed his eyes, preparing to be hit. No pain. He opened one eye and then the other slowly. Arabella was now ducking behind the railing, picking up her gun, which had fallen from her hand only to slide across the wooden deck.

 

He felt a hand grasp his wrist, pulling him away. “Jonathan. Run!” Libby hissed. He didn’t need to be told again.

 

“What are you waiting for, get after them!” he heard the woman on deck command.

 

They entered one of the white-washed hallways, running past rooms full of relaxing travelers. Those people were lucky- at the end of the journey, they’d disembark the boat and return to their normal lives. Jonathan couldn’t even remember the last time his life bordered anywhere near normal.

 

Somewhere behind them, he heard heavy footsteps closing in. A utility closet was open. Grabbing Libby, whose plan appeared to be nothing more than keep running until there was nowhere else to run, he pulled her into the closet and shut the door quietly.

 

“What are you doing?” she hissed, barely getting the words out before Jonathan covered her mouth with his hand. They stood in silence, Jonathan with a broom digging into his back, Libby wedged between Jonathan and the door knob. Outside, they heard the footsteps of Arabella’s henchmen passing.

 

OOO

 

Jonathan removed his hand from Libby’s mouth. “Take the gun,” she said, shoving it into his hands. “I don’t want it.”

 

“Did you shoot Arabella?” he asked.

 

“No, I think I hit the deck chair. It scared her enough, though.” Though she didn’t say it, it had given her a sickening satisfaction to see Arabella throwing herself to the ground, desperate to save her life.

 

He nodded. “Ermh… I want…” he stuttered, amusing Libby. “I’m sorry… you know, I was just joking with you, old mum. We have to have some fun on these trips. You know, surprise attacks can start wearing on an old man’s nerves. And thank you, for... well, you know. ”

 

“Apology accepted, and you're welcome,” she replied quietly, leaning her head against the door. Outside she heard thumps on the floor. “They’re coming back through. I hear their feet.”

 

The group of men paused outside the door. “Where do you think the girl went?” she heard one ask.

 

“Dunno. How hard could it be to find her? Arabella said she should be easy to take down,” came the voice of a second.

 

“Hey… hey boys. You think she’s hiding in there?” a third asked, knocking a taunt on the door. Libby heard herself groan slightly, knowing they were caught.

 

“Do you trust me?” she heard Jonathan ask.

 

“Not particularly.”

 

“Could you trust me for all of five minutes?”

 

Footsteps were approaching the closet; she felt the knob twisting into her hip. “Fine.”

 

Grabbing her around the waist, Jonathan pushed her into the back of the closet and kissed her hard on the lips. She squeaked in surprise, her fists hitting his back as his hands weaved into her hair, tilting her head back so his lips could move more easily against hers.

 

The door swung open.

 

Jonathan stepped away from her, pushing her into the corner and blocking her face from the intruders with his body. “Bloody hell mate, can’t a chap get a moment alone with his girl on this bloody vessel?”

 

The men stepped away, attempting to act embarrassed, but Libby could tell they were impatient to find her. As their footsteps faded away, Jonathan turned back to her. “It got them to leave,” he stated, making his excuse.

 

Though she'd been tempted to hit him again, she realized he was right. They were still alive. “Jonathan, it’s fine. Can we just find Rick and Evelyn?”

_This day cannot get any worse…_ She started out of the closet, brushing against him as she tried to pass.

 

“Wait!” Jonathan said.

 

“Now what?”

 

“Why did you shoot Davey and Chatham? There’s more to this story. They didn't just want the key, did they?"

 

She sighed. Maybe if she told him what he wanted to know, he’d leave her alone.

 

“When I’d run away from the Chatham’s, I’d taken one of Edwin’s guns. I knew I wouldn’t be safe on my own, had a feeling Edwin and Arabella weren’t done with me. After you stole the box, everything fell apart. I never realized that they only reason I was still alive was _because_ I had that damn box. With it gone, I was expendable. I lost their prize. I was on the second floor of an abandoned apartment that Davey had scoped out, and I came downstairs to get a little bit of comfort from a friend.” She snorted at how stupid she’d been, ignoring the pitying look on Jonathan’s face. She didn’t need it – she’d survived it all on her own, like she always had. Like she always would. “Edwin and Davey were downstairs talking. The box was gone and I’d served my purpose. They were arguing over who was going to get stuck with the job of killing me. I went and got the gun did what I had to do. Can we _please_ just go find Rick now? They need to know what happened.”

 

Jonathan followed her quickly back to the rooms where the rest of the family was relaxing. They might be alive, but things with Libby were most definitely going to be awkward from now on.

 

OOO

 

Rick stood at the door of the family’s room, gun drawn. Two knocks. “Open the damned door, Rick!” He'd never been happier to hear the familiar British accent.

 

He opened the door just enough for Jonathan and Libby to slip through, then promptly locked it again. Almost immediately, Alex was clinging to Libby, and Evy to Jonathan. He couldn't lie, it relieved him more than anything that they were both in once piece.

 

Prying Jonathan out of Evelyn’s arms, he pulled him aside. “I heard the shots. Ardeth’s already seen the captain. We’re gonna get off the ship last. They may get a head start, but we can make it up. I’m not risking the three of them.”

 

Jonathan nodded his understanding. “Oh, we most definitely can make the time up! They have to wait for their pal Davey. He’s busy taking a swim.”

 

Rick’s mouth opened, then closed. Shaking his head, he replied, “You didn’t.”

 

“I did." Jonathan smiled triumphantly.

 

Rick joined his wife and son on their bed, ready to relax just a short while longer before they faced the dangers that waited. Ardeth sat on the desk, examining his gun carefully. Jonathan sat on the second bed, eyeing Libby carefully. Rick couldn't help but observe. Something had happened since he'd seen them both. They’d stop arguing, but they’d stopped talking. It was strange.

 

He watched as his brother-in-law walked up to his sister, whispering something in her ear. Standing, she decked him, straight in the nose. Walking toward the bathroom, she commanded the entire room, “Don’t dare bother me until we reach Italy.”

 

The bathroom door slammed and locked. Rick quirked his head, silently asking Jonathan what had happened.  He and Libby had only just reached some sort of understanding – Rick didn’t want to lose that because Jonathan was an idiot.

 

The only answer he got was a smirk.


	12. An Interlude In The Italian Countryside

_Well, this is certainly fun_ , Evelyn thought, the voice in her head dripping with sarcasm. Squirming in the back seat of the car, she attempted to get comfortable with Alex half sprawled across her lap reading his book. She couldn't complain. Alex was at that age where he was starting to pull away, to pretend he didn't know her when his friends were about the house. When alone with the family, however, he was as affectionate as could be. She was savoring these little moments while she could. Her son's love of adventure made her almost certain that he would follow in her's and Rick's footprints. Hopefully, though, when he did, he would avoid the trouble that seemed to befall them whenever they left England.

Having successfully disembarked the ship without attracting the attention of Arabella's lackeys- they were much too distracted in their arguments over who would row out into the Mediterranean and rescue the water-treading Davey- the family loaded their gear into the car Rick had arranged to meet them and sped towards Rome. Rick was driving maniacally on back roads as Ardeth attempted to give him directions from a faded map Jonathan had "obtained" from a stand near the docks. Alex, squished between herself and Libby in the back seat, was reading his book of South American animals to his aunt. She, in turn, was spending more time shooting irked looks at the smirking Jonathan.

"Hey Libby! Look at the caiman!" Alex exclaimed enthusiastically to the contemplative woman next to him.

"It kinda looks like an alligator, kiddo," she replied, distracted.

"Weren't you listening to me? They're supposed to look alike. Caiman is Spanish for alligator. I just read that." A look of annoyance passed over his face, but he quickly continued his chatter.

 _What on earth did Jon say to her?_  Evy wondered. All sorts of ludicrous comments that her brother could have made passed through her mind. The question was: did Jonathan value his life that little? She could just imagine what would happen if Rick found out that those whispered words were suggestive, or even worse, offensive. Her idiot brother would be lucky if he still had the capability to produce children when her husband was done with him.

The car was quiet, with the exception of Alex's babbling. As he stopped to take a breath, Evelyn heard Libby say "Mediocre."

Jonathan turned from the front seat, staring at her with a look of incredulity. "What?"

"Mediocre," she obligingly replied with a small smile. Jonathan's face was a mix of horror, shock, and offense.

_What the hell had Jonathan said?_

OOO

"How long do you think it'll take tomorrow, Richie?" Libby asked.

To keep from being tracked, Rick had insisted they spend the night camped out, rather than in a hotel. Evelyn had easily drawn a fire right outside a small forest, tents a short distance away. Jon and Ardeth had been sent to find fuel for the car, the Medjai insisting on driving, as the British man had been spending some quality time with his flask ever since she'd responded to his question.

"Probably half a day's drive from here," Rick replied, looking over the map. "We landed in Bari, which is pretty much opposite Rome… I think."

"Glorious," she replied, severely doubting Rick's map skills as he held the paper upside down and sideways in an attempt to regain his bearings. "Get me up when we move out?"

"No problem, Libs. Evy set up a sleeping bag next to her’s."

She nodded her reply, entering the tent. Lying down on the grass, her mind drifted to Jonathan.

_What was he thinking, asking me if he was a good kisser? Childish. That's it- he's a child trapped in a stupid, stupid man's body. And it wasn't a good kiss. It was an awful kiss. And he's my brother’s brother-in-law. That just makes ten times worse._

Not that Libby was qualified to judge a good kiss from a bad kiss. In all honesty, she'd never really been kissed willingly. No, she’d only been kissed by the sloppy drunks and perverts who lurked in the darker corners of the bars where she'd played blackjack. They hid in the shadows, waiting for her to be distracted. Seemingly out of nowhere, they'd grab her 'round the waist, planting a sloppy kiss. If she was lucky they missed her lips.

If she was lucky, they didn’t want more.  

_I suppose he did kiss better than them… urgh, why am I thinking about this. He's just another dirty old man… well not that old, but … Sleep! Yes, sleep is good. Sleep requires no thinking. Thinking is bad, sleep is good._

Closing her eyes, shifting her body in an attempt to find a comfortable spot on the hard ground, she had to push back a smile at her small victory.  _At least I got to bruise his ego a little._

Outside she heard a car driving close, brakes screeching to a stop.  _So much for sleeping…_

"Grab your bag and grab your caaaaappppp!" The off-key tones of a drunken Jonathan singing resonated through the tent. "Leave your worries on the dooooooooooooooor-step."

She heard Evelyn moan and turn over. "Bloody hell, I'll kill the git."

"Agreed."

Evelyn, rolling onto her side to look straight at Libby, asked, "Because of the singing? Or because of what he said to you?" The woman was baiting her.

"The singing. What else would I be talking about?" Libby replied.

"Life can be so sweeeeet, on the sunny side of the streeeeet!" He paused mid-song. "Rick, old boy, why aren't you singing along?"

A slight scuffle and what sounded like a smack upside the head ended Jonathan's one-man show. "Are you trying to get us killed?" she heard Rick grumble.

"Just lightening the mood! We're always so damn grim," came Jonathan's half-coherent reply. She heard him stumble into a tent, and a rather loud thump when he hit the ground to sleep. Taking advantage of his temporary silence, Libby fell asleep to the sound of the fire cracking and Rick and Ardeth's hushed whispers.

OOO

"Uncle Jon, look at the three-toed sloth!" Alex cheerfully said, pointing out the animal that lay fifty-three pages ahead of the caiman. Jon loved his nephew dearly, and he personally believed himself to be a very patient man. But after spending the night driving about the Italian country side with Ardeth Bay, whose concept of a speed limit was "press gas pedal, do not release under any circumstance," he felt that he was truly deserving of peace and silence… and several dozen aspirin.

Jonathan watched the road behind them through half-closed eyes. Prepared at (almost) any moment for attack, his gun was loaded and drawn. Evy, too, had a gun ready, though it remained hidden between the seat and the door.

"So have you traveled outside Egypt before, Mr. Bay?" he overheard Libby ask Ardeth. Today she sat in the front seat, her thin body allowing Ardeth and Rick a bit more room to move, making it easier to defend the car if necessary.

"Several times, but only briefly," was Ardeth's reply. "Artifacts that never should have left Egypt had to be recovered."

"This is my first time out of Egypt," Libby replied eagerly. "I've always wanted to see the world, but I've never had a chance. I ran a hotel back in Cairo…"

Jonathan barely suppressed a snort as he stopped listening to the chattering woman in the front seat.  _Aren't we talkative with the mysterious desert man,_ Jonathan thought.  _Not that it concerns me. Oh, hell, what am I saying? Of course it concerns me. Mediocre indeed._

It was true. Jonathan may have been called many things in his life, among which included a cad, a bore, and an ass. However; not one of these women had ever complained about the kiss he had bestowed upon them prior to being called these names. He may not be as handsome and dashing as Clark Gable. But Jonathan would be damned if he didn't kiss as good- no better- than the cinema lothario.

_Mediocre my ass. That woman doesn't recognize a good kiss when she gets one._

"Enjoying the conversation, big brother of mine?" he heard Evelyn whisper, her eyes piqued with interest as she caught him staring at the two speakers. "Maybe next time you'll play nicely with the other children. Jealousy doesn't suite you."

"Are you trying to be mysterious?" he retorted. He was not jealous. Just annoyed.

Evelyn didn't respond, only gave him a little, knowing half-smile. From the front seat, Rick announced that they were twenty minutes outside Rome. Jonathan settled back into his seat, eyes on the road, and ears prepared to hear a brief history of the three-toed sloth.

 


	13. Three Ring Circus

In the heat of the midday sun, the marble ruins of the enormous hippodrome sparkled. Libby had seen the three pyramids at Giza once in her life, and though they were much more imposing than the Circus Maximus, the expansive race track seemed to stretch into the countryside infinitely. Gazing at the spectator seats and the arched open hallways, Libby saw so many potential places for Arabella's men to hide.

"How the hell are we going to do this without getting killed?" she asked herself softly, shouldering one of Evy's bags of archaeological tools. The weight bore down on her shoulder more than she expected.

"Don't know, Libby-love." She jumped in surprise at the sound of Jonathan's voice. "But we won't get far if you keep getting caught off-guard like that."

"I was not… oh screw it!" Defending herself against his immature comments was useless- it would just lead to another pointless argument, and it was the last thing Libby needed to deal with.

She knew she was an easy target, knew that she was the weakness in the group. Libby put them all in danger – she didn’t fight, couldn’t defend herself if she tried. If she was distracted, she'd just be an easier target than she already was. And that would put Evy or Rick, or any of the group in danger. She wouldn’t have that on her shoulders.

_Just walk away,_  the voice in her head advised her, and she listened. Alex scrambled to her side, eager to get moving. "Dad, come ON! We're all ready to go!"

Rick turned from where he was double-checking that his spare guns were loaded. "Uh Alex, you and Libby aren't going anywhere."

A simultaneous "What?!" was exclaimed by the duo.

"You two are staying here at the car."

"No I am not, Richard!" Libby stubbornly replied. Leave her alone without any protection? She’d be a sitting duck, dead in a second if any of Arabella’s henchmen came along.

And yet, survival wasn’t her only reason. She was intrigued by this hunt. Wanted to be involved. Against her greater sense of self-preservation, she wanted to see this through, see where the scorpions would lead her.

"Yes, you are. I'm not risking your safety to get the damned scorpion. It's a maze of tunnels in there, and Arabella and her men could be anywhere. We don't even know where this statue-"

"Obelisk!" Evy corrected.

"…where this  _obelisk_  is," Rick finished, a determined look on his face.

"Oh Rick, we can't leave them here alone. They'll be safer with us, we'll all watch out for each other," Evelyn pleaded. She shot Libby a small smile, instinctively understanding Libby’s fears.

"They won't be here alone. You're staying here too."

The smile quickly faded. "Are you bloody kidding me?!" Evelyn shouted, drawing Jonathan and Ardeth's attention from their preparations for battle. Even Libby stopped to stare. That sort of language never left Evy's mouth, and she and Rick never argued.

"Evy," Rick said softly, and Libby could tell that all he wanted was for his wife to understand his logic.

"Rick, last time I got left behind I nearly got the kiss of death from Imhotep. We're staying together."

"The last time we went rushing into battle, you died. I'm not losing you again. There's no book this time, no magic spells. Arabella isn't the undead, she's a real, breathing human being. Her men are real, and her guns are real. If you die…" Rick's voice was choked with emotion. Libby was shocked, she'd never seen him like this. He was always the kid that hid his feelings well.

"And if you die Rick?" Evelyn countered, just as emotional as Rick.

A brief staring match ensued. Finally Evy spoke. "Just this once Rick, I'll do it, for Alex's sake. Don't you dare think you can start leaving me behind on these adventures."

"I wouldn't dream of it darlin'," he replied, kissing her. The look of relief that passed over his face was brief. "Ready boys?" he called to Jonathan and Ardeth. Loaded down with several guns each, they set off towards the ruins.

They'd made it halfway to the gates, when Rick returned to Libby. "I know you really want to be involved in this, but don't even think about following us. I need you here with Evy and Alex. Evy can't follow us. She can be a bit pig-headed though."

"But you love her anyway," Libby responded with a smile.

This was a whole new side to Rick, one that could quickly grow on her. When she'd first seen him, two days ago, all she'd wanted to do was throttle him. Slowly, though, she was finding she wanted to be a part of this family. She wasn't sure yet if it was because she'd forgiven Rick or that she just loved spending time with Alex and Evelyn, but it was a start. "I'll do my best Richie."

Trying to hide her disappointment and annoyance, she joined the highly irritated Evelyn and Alex by the car. "So… you died?"

"Not your typical conversation starter, but there's a story that'll pass the time," Evelyn said, perking up ever so slightly. "At least, until we have to go save Rick and Jonathan's asses."

OOO

"Davey, there ain't no tower here. It's all columns and shite." Davey sighed at Charlie's report. He sat snuggly in a dark crevice near the chariot entryway, watching and waiting for any sign of his men or Libby. "Maybe it collapsed or somethin’?"

"No way. Someone would have found the scorpion."

"D'you think it might be the one the girl has?" Charlie asked. "Ain't no way Cleopatra hid that scorpion in that grand ol' hotel."

Davey was silent for a moment. "Definitely possible," he replied, pondering. He grew excited. "You know, I'd bet you anything it is. That's why the O'Connells didn't come, they must have realized it’s not here and turned around! The scorpion has been gone for years!"

A silence fell between them. If Libby had the scorpion from the Circus Maximus, that meant there was still a scorpion at the Library at Alexandria.  _How the hell am I going to get there?_ Davey wondered.  _That whole place is underwater! It's impossible! Arabella's going to kill me…_

"What next boss?" Charlie asked.

He took a moment to think. "Find Gerard and Wesley. See if you can figure out where Menkahour's tomb was. We'll go from there."

Footsteps in the courtyard distracted him from his conversation. "We've walked the perimeter of this track, and we still haven't found a sodding obelisk. It's not like it's hard to miss. Are we  _sure_  this is where the bloody scorpion is?" The whining British voice brought a smile to Davey's face. Moving out of the shadows to look, he saw Rick, Jonathan, and the desert man wandering through the open halls with guns drawn.

"Charlie, I take that back," Davey whispered. "Grab some men, find Libby and Evelyn, and take them. We'll use them as bait to get the girl's scorpion. I'll stick with these three idiots."

OOO

"So all this stuff about mummies and attacks by the undead is true?" Libby asked, lighting a cigarette and attempting to keep Evy's mind off her husband. They sat together in the front seat of the car, feet up on the dashboard.

Evelyn laughed, though wrinkles still creased her face in worry. "Hard to believe, right? And your brother, oh lord, the first time I met him, I thought he was atrocious. He was in jail, about to be hung, and he kissed me."

This was quickly turning into the most girly discussion of Libby's life, and she was thoroughly enjoying it. In the orphanage, there hadn't been many other girls. Then she’d been with Davey, a replacement brother until his betrayal, and after she’d been alone. Long conversations about rendezvous with boys were never a part of her girlhood. She almost enjoyed it.

Libby wasn't surprised by her brother's actions in the prison. "And you still saved his ass?"

"I wanted to get to Hamunaptra," she replied with a shrug. "They're taking a bloody long time in there, aren't they? Obelisks are huge, it shouldn't be hard to find."

Libby nodded in reply. "Do you think you could be wrong? Maybe my scorpion is the one that was here before?"

"Impossible. You definitely have the one from the Library at Alexandria. No, I'm just wondering… maybe it isn't that the scorpion got moved. Maybe the entire obelisk moved?"

"What? I thought you said that obelisks are huge!" Libby remarked.

"They are huge, but it's entirely possible. When the richest families built their homes during the Renaissance, the great leaders wanted pieces of the past, legacies of ancient Rome to decorate their home and show their wealth. I'm just wondering… do you think Rick would mind horribly if we drove into town?" Evelyn's eyes were sparkling devilishly.

"Are you serious?" Libby replied. "He'll kill us. He'll kill  _me._ "

"I thought you wanted some adventure," Evelyn prodded with a grin. "And really, what trouble could we get into? We'll stop at a shop, and we can ask if the obelisk got moved, and you could buy more cigarettes- I know you're running out!"

"Mum, I think we need to get out of here anyway," Alex piped up softly from the back seat. Libby has forgotten he was back there, reading his book.

Turning around, the two women saw a group of nine or ten men, guns and scimitars drawn, approaching the car. "Alex get down," Evy commanded, and the boy ducked under the back seat. From beside the seat, she pulled out her gun. "Libby can you drive?"

"Not really," she replied, turning the keys in the engine out of instinct.

"Well consider this your first lesson. On the count of three... one... two... drive..." Stomping her foot down hard on the gas pedal, Libby steered the car away from the Circus Maximus towards the city of Rome, causing Evy and Alex to slam back into their seats.

Evy quickly righted herself. To her right, she heard shots coming from the gun in the woman's hand. "Haha, got one!" Seconds later, the rearview mirror went flying off, cracked in a thousand shattered pieces from the force of the bullet’s impact. Libby veered onto the dirt road. Five minutes and they'd be back into the city. She only hoped they didn't end up in a fiery wreck before then.

OOO

"Did you hear that?" Ardeth asked. The three men paused in their search of the hallway. Two gunshots echoed through the marble pillars.

"Oh my god…" Jonathan murmured, his heart stopping in his chest. Three gunshots total… Libby, Evy, Alex.

"Screw the scorpion," Rick growled, and Jonathan knew he'd had the same thought as him. "My family's out there."

He turned to follow Rick, but found himself faced with a most pathetic sight. Davey was crawling out of a dark hallway crevice on his hands and knees in an attempt to skulk away. Looking up and seeing them, the man's face turned from victorious to crestfallen in a matter of moments. Tripping over his own feet, he attempted to stand up and run at the same time.

Moving quickly despite his robes, Ardeth pushed Rick and Jonathan out of the way and wrestled Davey to the ground. The man struggled weakly, but was easily overpowered. _That was silly, old friend,_ Jonathan thought, watching Davey get his face smashed into the stone floor. His twisted enjoyment of the scene quickly ended with the knowledge that his family was possibly lying dead outside the building.

Dragging Davey behind them, they rushed through the arched hallways into the calm, silent countryside. Two bodies lay in the road, clearly male. The car was gone. The scene was silent.

Ardeth's grip on Davey was not strong enough to keep him safe from Rick's rage. Grabbing the man and shaking him hard, Jonathan watched as the younger man's head moved limply back and forth. "WHERE THE HELL IS MY FAMILY!" he screamed as Ardeth attempted to pull him off.

Jonathan made no move to help.  _Sodding bastard deserves it._

Down the road, the motor of a car was heard. Rick stopped shaking Davey, distracted by the noise. Davey smiled sadistically and said, "You follow that car, you'll find your wife and kid."

OOO

"Are they still behind us?" Libby shouted, frantically turning the wheel left and right, the car swerving along the road. It wasn't that there was anything actually in her path that she was trying to avoid. Her most recent experiences in a car had been with Rick and Jonathan, and she was quickly realizing that their movements behind the wheel were not the best to imitate.

"I think we're driving a bit faster than they run," Evelyn replied, holding the gun in one hand and the latch to the car door in the other. "Keep driving into the city a bit. If they follow us by car, we can at least lose them in there."

"Mum, can I sit up now?" Alex asked, wedged on the floor between the two rows of seats, casually reading his book.

Both women ignored him as the country road became increasingly narrower and they entered the city. Trying to avoid the open–air carts selling food and those who were out making their daily purchases, Libby slowed the car down, certain in the knowledge that she was safely ahead of Arabella's men by at least a few minutes. As they passed a group of soldiers standing alert in front of a large building, Evy put her gun away.

"Slow down a bit- those are Mussolini's men," Evy said quietly. "Neville Chamberlin, the prime minister back home, isn't too keen on him, but those soldiers can work to our advantage. Arabella's men can't run amuck with their guns while those boys are around."

Once she passed them, Libby sped up again. Left turn, right turn- she hoped Evelyn was keeping track of where they were going, because she sure as hell wasn't. She was determined to emerge from this with the car and the Roman pedestrians unscathed. Another left, into a long ally that was relatively empty.

"Stay here or keep going?" she asked.

"Keep going," was the reply from both of her passengers. Speeding through the dark ally, honking at the stray cats so she didn't hit them, she didn't stop to look when she swung left back onto the main street.

Taking just a second to regain her bearings, she observed the plaza she'd driven into. Circular and filled with marble human figures, there were relatively few people here. Libby slammed on the breaks, nearly sending her sister-in-law flying out of the car. Only one word popped into Libby's mind, which she didn't hesitate to voice.

"Seriously?"


	14. The Plaza of the People

"Libby, you are a miracle worker," Evelyn whispered, tucking her windswept hair behind her ears. In the middle of the plaza, the obelisk stood tall, casting an imposing shadow over the car. "Or we're just damn lucky. Of course, we shouldn't get our hopes up; there are dozens of obelisks in Rome-"

"Can I sit up now?" an irritated voice interrupted from the back seat. "This floor is bloody uncomfortable."

Evelyn didn't even correct Alex's language, just responded in the affirmative. Her sole focus was on the giant obelisk. She climbed out of the car, Libby following close behind. Gazing up at the monument, Libby couldn’t help but wonder how it had been moved from its original location. Not even one hundred men could shoulder the weight of such heavy stones.

"Please tell me the scorpion isn't at the top," Libby said. "I am not a climber."

"Afraid of heights?" Evelyn asked. When the other woman nodded, Evelyn slung an arm over her shoulder. "That's alright. Rick is like a rather large monkey in many ways, especially in his ability to climb the seemingly unclimbable. If it's up there, we'll go back to the Circus Maximus and get Rick and the boys. Now, let's find us a scorpion!"

 _Couldn't we go back and get the boys now?_ Libby wondered. From what she could see, in the luckiest break they could ask for, they'd successfully thrown Arabella's men off their trail. Rick had left them with only one gun between the two women and Alex. It seemed irresponsible, but Rick and Ardeth had been convinced they'd only encounter the enemy within the stadium walls.

 _Stupid, you should know how Arabella runs her business by now_ , she thought. Evelyn passed her the pistol, and she leaned against the side of the obelisk, holding the gun in what she hoped was a threatening manner should any of their foes stumble upon them.  _Jonathan thinks I'll get caught off-guard. Ha, not this time buddy._

Still, Libby knew she was useless as their defense. The thought of having to pull the trigger, even to kill someone who would easily kill her, made her stomach churn. And Jonathan's words had affected her more than she cared to admit. She had been caught off guard so many times before, first having the box stolen and then in placing her trust in Davey. Edwin and Davey were going to kill her that long ago night, so they had to be killed. Most people would have taken that as reason enough, but when she ran from the abandoned building, she made it only three blocks before she threw up, sickened by her actions.

_No, there is no way I am going to be caught off-guard again._

Evy crouched at the base of the obelisk, reading the largest inscription. "Aha!" she cried triumphantly, pulling her from her reverie. "Libby, if this is how you always drive, you're in control of the car for all further adventures. We've got Cleopatra's obelisk."

OOO

All roads lead to Rome, they say. Of course, if that's true, then the opposite is as well. All roads also lead away from Rome. Away from Rome, where Jonathan would have preferred to be walking (or driving, or flying…) this very instant. Unfortunately for him, they were heading into the ancient city, where a car full of murderers and thieves had driven in pursuit of Evy, Libby, and Alex.

Slinging his pistol like an Old West cowboy, a trick he'd picked up from those poor American chumps at Hamunaptra, Jonathan was once again relegated to the job that no one else in the group wanted: guarding Davey. Though his arms were bound with rope behind his back, his attitude was still surly, and he dragged his feet as they walked.

"You don't seem worried, Carnahan," Davey sneered as the two men trailed behind Ardeth and Rick.

"No need to be, pal. If you thought fighting me was tough," he claimed with false bravado, "you have yet to anger Evelyn O'Connell."

"Right. That most definitely gives me cause to worry." Davey snorted, attempting not to laugh.

Annoyed with the perceptive prisoner, Jonathan poked him in the back with the gun. "Yeah, yeah… get yourself moving."

OOO

"So the inscription basically goes on for a while about the eternal bonds between Egypt and Rome, union of kingdoms, and so on and so on," Evelyn said quickly, her fingers running over the hieroglyphs engraved in stone. "Normally, I'd read every word of this, but given the circumstances, I think we can divert from tradition, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I can deal with that," Libby replied nervously. One of her eyes scanned the entire perimeter of the plaza, where dozens of side roads entered. The other eye was kept on Alex, who was also studying the obelisk.  _Like mother like son._   _Come on Evy, let's get out of here._

Evelyn quietly read through the rest of the inscription. "The rest is prayers! Just prayers to Bes, the goddess of recreation, asking her to keep the athletes safe and the competitions fair. I don't understand. I know we didn't miss anything!"

"Do you still have the clue mum?" Alex asked.

"Maybe we should go back to the stadium?" Libby suggested hopefully.

She didn't care if she was a complete and total coward. Her mind was conflicted. Libby knew she had been threatened, attacked, and shot at enough for one lifetime. In that moment, nothing would have made her happier than to hop a train and disappear into Europe where no one would find her again. A life alone, like she'd lived since escaping the Chathams, wasn't all that bad. It was safe, it was somewhat controllable, it was…. lonely.

In her heart, Libby knew she couldn't run. Evy and Alex were depending on her to guard them at the obelisk; Rick was depending on her to keep his family safe. Despite her fights with Jonathan- which, in all honesty, weren't fights, more like little disagreements- she actually could tolerate her new-found family. Granted, it had only been a two day reunion, but circumstances had forced them to tolerate each other.  _And tolerance,_ she thought,  _is the first step to fitting in here…_

"The clue, the clue… what was the clue?" Evelyn thought aloud. "I left the bloody translation with Rick."

"You said it had something to do with Julius Caesar," Libby said, struggling to remember the hurried conversation on the train. "And Cleopatra was in a carpet, and there were chariot races. Then they built the obelisk."

Evelyn looked up in awe at this confused revelation, but it didn't matter. "Mum!" Alex called from the opposite side of the stone monument. "Did you see this? I can't read this part of the inscription!"

His mother moved to his side, and Libby followed. "I've never seen hieroglyphs like this before. They're…" Evy paused a moment, before her face lit up. "Alex, go to the car and get me the rear facing mirror."

"Mum?"

"Alex," there was a tone of warning in her voice, but the boy didn't need to be told twice. As any child will tell you, there is a great joy to be found in breaking things- especially breaking things that are quite expensive with the knowledge that you will not get in trouble. He rushed away and a loud  _crack_  was heard. Alex returned seconds later with one of the mirrors in hand.

"I knew it!" Evelyn cried, as she angled the mirror in front of the letters. "It's written in reverse! It says: 'Mine is the measure of the sun. Mine are the pillars that hold up the heavens. Mine are the points of the compass, which lay protected by Horus's children. Mine is in death, at the tomb.' "

"Well that certainly makes finding this scorpion a whole lot easier," Libby mumbled.

Evelyn counted up four layers in the stone work, and replied "Yes, it certainly does." She began circling the obelisk, hand tracing along the fourth layer of stone. "Four is the sacred number of the gods in Egyptian numerology. It's the number of canopic jars, the number of points on the compass, the number of pillars that hold heaven. And, here we go!"

She was pointing to a marble stone. The mortar holding it in place was a completely different color than that holding the rest of the obelisk together. "We need to get this brick out. Then we'll have our scorpion."

As Evelyn set to work removing the brick, Libby was almost positive she heard the rumble of a car engine in the distance.

OOO

Davey was aggravated. This day clearly was not going as planned. Not only had he failed to find Cleopatra's obelisk, but now he had been captured by the people he would prefer dead. The people who, if the imbecile mercenaries Arabella hired had done their job correctly, would currently be dead. He hoped that they'd listened to him and only kidnapped O'Connell's family, because if they hadn't- well, the only person that would be a corpse at day's end would be him.

Despite his initial thoughts of impending doom, however, there was a sparkle of hope. Jonathan Carnahan was, in Davey's experience, a callous, boastful drunk. A boost to his ego, a little bit of praise here and there, and maybe, just maybe, Davey could distract him long enough to escape. Toss in a few insults towards Libby, who Jonathan (quite understandably) could not tolerate, and he would be golden.

Slowing down, he allowed the distance between himself, Rick, and the Medjai to increase, giving him leeway to speak with Jonathan privately. He was lucky- the two other men were too distracted to notice what he was doing. Their eyes scanned the countryside for any sort of vehicle that would allow them to get to Rome faster.

"I will say, Carnahan," he began, turning his head just slightly to see Jonathan without raising any suspicion. "I must give you credit for the little trick on the boat. I did not see that one coming."

Jonathan looked flustered, as if he wasn't used to receiving credit for his work during the family's adventures. Davey turned away, knowing he'd gotten the British man's attention. "Well, you should give credit where it's due, old chap. I outsmarted you on that one."

"No doubt about it old man," he replied, not even bothering to look at Jonathan. If he had, he would have noticed the highly suspicious look that had fallen over his face- and not just because the barely-younger man made an age joke.

"Huh, thirty-nine is hardly an old man," Jonathan responded.

"Right you are, pal, I'm thirty-three myself. Just a figure of speech." He smiled with satisfaction, he had the man's attention.  _Ok, jokes are out… back to the ass kissing._

OOO

The noise of the cars grew louder as the moments passed. Then it stopped as suddenly as it had started, silence pervading where the rumbles had just echoed. Libby felt herself breathe a sigh of relief.  _What the hell would we have done if they found us?_

"How's it going there Evelyn?" she said softly.

Both she and Alex looked around the corner of the obelisk, picks and what appeared to be a miniature axe in their hands. "Wonderfully! The mortar work here is so intricate, I've never seen anything like it in other obelisks I've studied…"

 _Ever the archaeologist…_ Libby thought with an eye roll. "Any sign of a scorpion?" she asked hopefully.

"We haven't even gotten the brick out yet."

_Oh good lord. We're going to die here. Right here._

"Stop worrying, Libby. We'll have it soon enough." Evelyn was a mind reader. Something in her sister-in-law's voice was incredibly comforting, and Libby held onto that. "Can you go back to the car and see if there's anything sharp we can use to pry this door brick out with?"

"Sure thing," she replied, walking back to the car. Closer now, though, she heard the car motor running again. From the opposite side road, shouts. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure in red dart behind a naked marble statue.

"Evelyn,” she called, just loud enough that her sister-in-law looked up, but not so loud that anyone farther away could hear. “I have to go look at something. When I get back, I want both of you back in the car ready to go."

She'd never ordered people about like that. Even in the hotel, she'd been on the same level as her coworkers, mostly because of her own personal shortcomings in running a hotel. It seemed like the situation called for it though. Libby was certain they had been discovered.

"Of course, Libby," the other woman replied distantly, wholly involved in her work.

Inching her way across the plaza, Libby attempted to move without causing a great stir. It was the longest walk of her life, the uncertainty of who waited behind the statue weighing on her mind. As she reached the beautiful, frozen stone goddess, she reached behind it slowly. She grabbed the person, pulling him out to look at him face to face.

It was a teenage boy with bright red hair and a freckled face. He looked only a few years older than Alex, and his face was a mixture of fear and defiance.

"You with Davey?" she asked harshly, desperately attempting to be intimidating.

"What's it to ya, sister?" His voice was deeper than she expected.

Libby thought about pulling the gun, but the kid was so young. "Listen, bud. You go back to your boss, or whoever's with you, and you tell them to back the hell off. Whatever Arabella wants you to do, whatever she tells you you're gonna get, you're not going to win. You'll be dead and she’ll be victorious. Take this as my warning to you. I lived with that bitch for years. I'm giving you a chance to escape."

His face looked incredulous. "Seriously?" he squeaked, turning red with embarrassment.

She didn't bother to answer. "You have five minutes. You run and you run far. If I can still see you, you're gonna take a bullet from the gun in my back pocket as a parting gift. You got that?"

He nodded quickly, pulling away from her and bolting down a side street. She heard him shouting, but didn't bother to listen.

"Evelyn! Let's go!" Libby shouted, running back across the plaza. The noise of the car engine was back, and this time she knew that they were going to be found.

"Patience is a virtue," she heard the other woman reply in a sing-song, nervous voice. She was still attempting to pry the marble stone from the obelisk in a manner that would not leave permanent damage.

"Not right now it isn't! They can't complete the curse without my scorpion; we can let them take this one!" Libby pleaded.

"NO!" Evy replied sharply. "We did NOT come this far to let them take this. I nearly have the stone out."

Sighing, Libby looked out into the streets, then back to the obelisk. Rick was right, Evelyn was reckless and determined. But Alex was at risk here, and even though the boy was trying to look tough, she knew he was scared. "Evy, this isn't about the damned scorpion! This is about your son."

The archaeologist was gone, and the mother returned. "Oh lord… Alex…"

"You need to keep Alex safe. I can get the scorpion and I'll find you later. Take Alex and the gun, get to the car, and go find Rick." Libby moved into Evy's place, and began yanking at the stubborn brick.

"But—"

"Do you really want to debate this? I've spent years running, this is second nature."

She felt herself being pulled into a hug. "Be safe, try and stay near the plaza. I'll be back with the boys."

The two ran across the plaza, Evelyn holding the gun at the ready. Tumbling into the car, they sped between two statues and away through an alley. From her spot at the base of the obelisk, Libby was relieved when she didn't hear any shots or screams. Somehow, they had evaded Arabella's men.

Every moment, she knew she was in danger. Pulling, pulling on the corner stone, trying to move it out, she waited for the gunshot that would end her life to pierce through the silence. Footsteps were echoing in the roadways, directionless but closer than ever. After a good ten minutes, she stuck her fingers into the small gaps that Evelyn had broken to try and pull the stone out. She felt something else instead. The brick to the left pushed backward. If she could push the brick back, the other would turn around. She gave the second stone a push.

With a smooth motion, the marble brick to the left receded back into the obelisk. This allowed the other brick to turn sideways, revealing an empty crevice.  _It's not here, it's not here…. why isn't this damned scorpion here._

Then it hit her. The scorpion wasn't in the crevice, because it was hidden in the brick. And there it lay, literally entombed in marble, only a small gap allowing it to be lifted out. Grabbing the jeweled creature, she stuffed it in her pocket.

In the alley, she saw Arabella's men. It was clear they saw her. With a silent prayer that the rest of her family would return soon, she ran.


	15. Rooftop Escapes

"Oh Jonathan!" Rick called, slowing down from his power walk to fall in step with his brother-in-law. Davey fell silent, his train of thought apparently disrupted as Ardeth took up the task of pushing him along the road. The true distance between the Circus Maximus and Rome proper had become more evident, as the fifteen minute drive quickly became a tedious, anxiety-riddled hike.

"Interesting conversation with your pal?" Rick asked quietly.

"Isn't it always? The bloke's been sweet-talking me for the past half-hour. I'm starting to get worried he might fall a little in love with me!" Jonathan grinned as Rick half-gasped, half-laughed and struggled to catch his breath.

Calming himself down, he asked, "What do you think? Should we be worried?"

Jonathan couldn't say it was a rare occasion- it was bettered described as an infrequent one- that Rick asked his opinion. The begrudging respect between the two had taken some time to come to fruition, and had only been sealed when Jonathan remained in Egypt after their second mummy-raising mishap to revive the impossible search for his sister. Certainly, neither man had actually acknowledged this transformation from unwilling acquaintances to brothers, but the sentiment was evident. Rick trusted his life and the life of his family to Jonathan, and Jonathan was certain that, should he ever have one (which, much to his chagrin, was beginning to seem highly unlikely), he would do the same.

"Rick," Jonathan replied, his voice dropping to a whisper to keep Davey from hearing anything. "I don't know if you've noticed this, but he knows us. He knows our adventures, our personalities, like he and his boss have been watching us for some time. I realized that on the boat—he was expecting me to be an easy fight, he knows how I enjoy my liquor. Davey seems to think I’m the weak link, and I'm almost positive that he's trying to get on my good side. Maybe distract me with adoration, promise to make me the next great Egyptian god, and then run for it while you're forty feet ahead."

Rick chuckled again, and Jonathan took some comfort that he'd gotten his brother-in-law to relax, just a bit. "Right. I'd hate to see the curses you'd leave behind if they let you be a god."

"I can't possibly do any more damage than the original group did. Bloody scorpions and plagues and mummies and-"

"Right you are buddy. Now don't go losing our prisoner on us."

"No problem, old boy," he replied as Rick rejoined Ardeth. Davey was sent back to Jonathan. The two walked in silence again.

Though he had just been joking with Rick, Jonathan truly was worried about Libby. He knew Evy and Alex could handle the danger, but Libby… 

_It doesn't help that you were so harsh on her this morning. She was scared already, and you went and rubbed it in. Bollocks, you've been right awful to the girl, Jonathan Carnahan._

"You should get rid of them."

It took a moment to acknowledge Davey’s interruption. He forced his thoughts of Libby aside – the woman already occupied far more of his brain than healthy.

"What did you say?"

"Get rid of them. I see how they treat you, like an idiot. Like you're a deadweight. You could be so much better without them."

Jonathan stopped walking, unable to believe how accurate his words to Rick were. "Excuse me?" He glanced at the other men, hoping they noticed the brewing trouble.

"Get rid of the Medjai. Get rid of Rick and his ridiculous brood," Davey whispered harshly, staring him down. Jonathan felt himself gripping his gun. No one threatened his family and friends like this. A few years ago he would have laughed this off, maybe even agreed with Davey. But they had been through too much together, and even with all his faults, they still had faith in him.

"And Libby. That bitch would be the first one I got rid of."

Davey didn't see it coming when Jonathan tackled him. Then again, neither had Jonathan. All he knew was that, when he heard Libby's name spoken by the man who betrayed her, the urge to fight overtook him.

And fight he did.

OOO

Pounding, pounding. Libby's footsteps hit the ground hard as she ran, beads of sweat forming on her forehead, her neck. A jolt ran through her entire body each time she pushed off the cobblestones in the alleyway. Behind her, the sound of the half-dozen or so men that Evy hadn't managed to injure or kill moved closer and closer.

 _You’re dead!_ the voice in the back of her head screamed as she bolted left.  _You should have followed your own advice. Should have left the scorpion and gotten in the car. You know, that place where the gun is? What were you thinking!?_

Pushing her self-deprecating thoughts aside, she concentrated on escape rather than impending doom. Besides, she never would have considered taking the gun. Alex and Evy had to get out of the city safe- she'd promised Rick they would be fine.

And they would be.

"I see her!" she heard a man shout behind her. She didn’t turn to see how close the voice was, didn’t want to know.

 _It's not like I'm suicidal,_  she thought as she dodged a trash can surrounded by stray cats. She hadn't planned on getting herself killed, especially not in order to save her brother's family. She'd watched them drive away, hoping they'd come back to get her, if only to prevent the two scorpions she carried from being stolen by their enemy. 

 _So why did you do it, silly girl? Why did you stay?_ Behind her, the garbage can she'd just passed was knocked over, startling her from her thoughts.

Two hands grabbed her around the waist. "Got you now, little lady."

 _Oh no, I am NOT going down this fast._ Freeing her arm from his grasp, she elbowed him hard in the stomach. As he doubled over in pain, she administered a kick to… well, suffice it to say, she could at least be certain that he wouldn't be procreating any time soon.

He seemed to be the only man close enough to reach her at this point. She started searching the writhing man for a weapon.  _He has to have a gun, he just has to!_ Libby pulled a knife out of his back pocket, and quickly stuffed it into her own.  _I know they all had guns, where is it?_

She wasn't paying attention, distracted as she was in her search for the gun. Out of nowhere, two large hands wrapped around her neck, cutting off her air. Libby struggled as the man pulled her on top of him, forcing her to watch as he choked her. She couldn't breathe, couldn't gain the advantage to pull away. His hands got tighter and tighter, spots appearing before her eyes, flashing in and out, in and out.

As she looked for anything that could possibly help her she saw it… the gun was laying on the ground, about three feet away from where they were laying. He squeezed her neck tighter.  _This isn't how it's supposed to end. I have a chance at a new life, with my family, and I am going to get this._

Libby grabbed the knife from out of her pocket and plunged it into the man's thigh. He dropped her quickly, grabbing at his leg as she gasped for breathe. From the depths of the man's chest, a scream like a small animal being eaten arose. 

_Oh God. I stabbed him. What am I doing? This isn't me!_

The man still hadn't given up, and was crawling towards her, reaching for her ankle to pull her back down. The instinct to survive overtook her guilt, and she grabbed the gun. Standing above him, Libby pointed the pistol at him "Trust me, I'll shoot." He stopped moving toward her, falling back in pain.

 _Finally!_ Libby thought triumphantly. She didn't have long to bask in the glory and the guilt of her escape, because three more men were waiting for her at ally's end. In the distance, the rumbling engine of a car could be heard.

She prayed to whoever might be listening that it was her family.

OOO

"Rick, they will be fine. Evelyn and Alex have encountered such dangers before, they will know what to do," Ardeth said, attempting to comfort his friend. The American had changed since he had last seen him in Egypt. He was much more protective, much less willing to take risks. He supposed if he had a family, he would feel the same, but the protection of Egypt, her culture, and her people had prevented him from even considering this frivolity. "And Libby will soon learn that, sometimes, in order to survive, it is necessary to…"

"I'LL BLOODY KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!" Jonathan shout furiously. Spinning around, he saw the normally foppish British man attacking the Italian prisoner.  _Did Evy's death really change the family this much?_ Ardeth wondered. Jonathan attacking people instead of Rick. Rick worrying instead of Evelyn. The only one who remained the same was young Alex, always in search of an adventure.

Ardeth heard a yelp of pain come from Davey as Jonathan's fist connected with his stomach. He and Rick rushed back to where they scuffled. Pulling Jonathan away, he allowed Rick to now take control of the prisoner.

"What were you thinking? If you killed him, we lose our only bargaining chip against Arabella's men. Then what would happen to your sister, your nephew? Think about it!"

"He… he threatened Libby," Jonathan panted.

Ardeth felt one of his eyebrow rise. An interesting piece of information, to be sure, but one wholly irrelevant at the moment. Rick was shaking in anger as he twisted Davey's arms behind his back. Ardeth couldn't hear what he said, but the paleness of his enemy's face indicated that it was probably a most horrific death threat.

A car’s engine cut through the silence, breaks squealing as it abruptly stopped. “RICK! JONATHAN! BAY!” In their rush to stop Jonathan, they had not heard Evelyn speeding up the road.

"Evelyn?" Rick asked, dropping Davey on the ground and rushing to his wife. "Where are Alex and Libby?"

Alex's small hand waved from the floor of the back seat. "Mum won't let me sit up!"

"They chased us into Rome. We found the obelisk and Libby stayed to get the scorpion. Arabella's men are coming. We have to go get her!"

Before the words had even left her mouth, Ardeth and Jonathan were in the car. There would be time for explanations later. Rick turned to grab Davey. "Where did the bastard go?"

Evelyn's arrival had proven just the distraction Davey need to escape. Rick made a move to go search for him.

"O'Connell. Do you prefer the life of your enemy or the life of your sister?" Ardeth asked.

No answer was needed. The American was in the car, speeding back into Rome.

OOO

Libby knew she couldn't run back the way she came. Arabella's men would be waiting there. Forward wasn't an option either, as they had circled around and were leering at her from the far end of the alley. With just one gun, which probably had been fired during her first escape, fighting wasn't an option. So she looked the only other direction she could.

Up.

The building had a rickety, wooden fire escape. If she was lucky, it would hold her weight. But she doubted that it would hold the weight of several grown men, an assumption she banked on. She pulled down the ladder and started on her way up. When they saw her escape, Arabella's men moved in quickly. By the time she’d reached the platform on the first floor, they were clambering up behind her.

Reacting quickly, she threw the knife down at the first man on the ladder. It hit him just to the left of his heart, but the damage was enough. He fell to the ground, bringing the man climbing below him down as well. There were more. Hoping her aim was as good as with the knife, she fired four rounds, emptying the gun. Three more men fell, the fourth bullet missing its target entirely. Not stopping to try and fight anymore, Libby chucked the gun, and continued on her path to the roof with vigor, knowing that this was all she could do to save herself.

Rung after rung, she felt her hands become calloused as she pulled herself upward on the weather-beaten wood. Finally, she reached the top level. Arabella’s last man was not far behind, followed by several fresh members of her army. Libby kicked at the last ladder, hopping the rotten wood would break, preventing the enemy from catching her. One side broke off easily, but the other was stuck, an old rusted nail refusing to break apart. As the next group of mercenaries appeared at the bottom of the ladder with guns drawn, she gave up, hoping it would break under their weight.

She pulled herself onto the roof. Seeing the door into the building, she was relieved that escape finally was imminent. With any luck, she’d disappear into the building, maybe find a friendly face that would hide her until the danger had passed. Behind her, she heard the crack of the ladder breaking off the fire escape and several shouts of dismay. A car pulled into the ally, the breaks squealing as it stopped.

"Home free!" she whispered, grabbing the handle of the door and turning it.

The knob didn't move.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Nope," a voice whispered in her ear. Turning slowly, a single man stood directly in front of her, towering over her with a long scimitar in his hand. Backed against a locked door, there was nowhere to run. No way to go down or run, and jumping off a building certainly wasn't an option.  _How is it that I'm the one that's dealing with the frightening knife wielding guys?_

He held the sword against her neck, standing so close that she could smell the foul stench of his last meal on his breathe. "So you gonna hand over the gold?"

"I don't have any gold!" It was true. Sort of. She had golden jeweled scorpions, but no pure gold. Right now, she was living on a technicality. In the alley, she heard fighting, then footsteps on the fire escape. More of Arabella's men were coming.

His sweaty hand ran across the stitches the Medjai healer had sewn into her face just a few days before. She flinched at his action. "I could do this to your neck, sweetheart. Now you wanna tell me where those scorpions are?"

"No, thank you. They're fine where they are." His face turned red in anger.

 _This is it, Elizabeth Ann O'Connell._ Whispering a silent prayer, she hoped that death would be swift. Behind the swordsman, she distantly heard the sound of metal hitting bricks before silence reigned. _Let it be quick, let it be quick…_

"You little bitch, I'm gonna run you—"A shot rang out and the man wend down. He was dead.

Heart pounding, Libby was afraid to open her eyes and see who the shooter was. She heard boots running across the roof and felt arms wrapping around her. "Oh shit, Libby. Thank God."

Rick had returned.

She couldn’t suppress the sobs of relief. "You didn't leave me Richie," she managed to gasp out, burying her head in his shoulder. The fright and the gravity of the experience was finally hitting her.

"I told you, I was done making mistakes kiddo. I'm not leaving you behind, never again," he choked out. Libby was almost positive he was crying too.

Three pounds on the rooftop door, and it collapsed from the inside. Jonathan and Ardeth stepped out, guns still drawn. "It's alright boys, they're all dead now. I just got the last one."

Ardeth's face remained calm, as always, and Jonathan's was a mix of relief and annoyance. "You didn't leave anybody for us to fight? Where's the fun in that?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, gentlemen," Rick replied boisterously. "Nothing left here." He kept one arm protectively around her shoulder.

"I wouldn't say that," Libby said quietly. She pulled the two scorpions from her pocket, and smiled.

"Let's get the hell out of this country," Rick said, and the foursome entered the stairwell to make their way back to where Evelyn and Alex waited with the car.


	16. Acceptance and Cigarettes

"Hand me that red book, Alex" Evelyn asked, seated comfortably within her tent. She was glad now that, in the rush to leave their home in Cairo, she'd grabbed some light reading material. Scientific journals and magazines that had sat on her desk for months without being touched, now were being perused with expert speed in search of any clue regarding Menkahour's tomb. The fifth dynasty king's burial spot, as far as she knew, had never been found.

"Sure mum," Alex replied quietly.

 _Much too quietly_ , Evy thought. The boy was staring out of the tent absentmindedly. "Alex, sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Is Aunt Libby going to leave us when this is all done?"

"Oh dear," Evelyn replied. She had been worried about the younger woman since Rick had brought her down from the roof. Libby was very clearly in shock, a combination of being attacked and having to attack the men in Rome. After Rick and Jonathan helped set up camp and went off in search of the fastest means of transportation back to Egypt, she had quietly volunteered to cook dinner for the group. It was there, next to their fire, that she sat in quiet contemplation stirring a pot of food that smelled unappetizing.

Libby wasn't used to the way they lived their lives, jumping from one adventure to the next. Honestly, it was something that Evelyn craved and loved. And though her near death experience had shown her that the family had to slow down a bit (which they had... almost), she would never turn down the opportunity to face danger head on. If Libby, after the multiple near death experiences of the past few days, said that she was moving to a deserted island, Evelyn couldn't blame her. She had gotten quite the reintroduction to family life.

"Mum?" she heard Alex ask again.

"I certainly hope she won't, Alex. I know you're worried about her, but I promise you, your aunt will be alright." Deep inside, Evelyn hoped what she said was true.

OOO

"You surprise me," a deep voice stated, causing Libby to jump. The spoon she was using to stir the mystery meat fell into the pot, and in her attempt to fish it out, she burned her hand. Ardeth Bay took a seat beside her at the campfire. In the firelight, the wrinkles of worry on his face that were so evident during the day, disappeared.

Libby was not dead on the inside- that was as far from the truth as a person could get. Two months shy of thirty (and oh, how she hated to say that number!), romance had never factored into her life. However, she could truthfully admit that the Medjai leader most definitely qualified as the single-most handsome man she had encountered. He had a strong jaw, and expressive, deadly brown eyes. Though his heavy black robes hid his body, from the way he knocked down the rooftop door, she knew he must have a strong, muscular physique.

All around, Ardeth Bay was a very attractive man, yet something in his character left Libby feeling entirely cold. It wasn't that she thought he was against her. He'd proved his loyalty when he helped Rick search Rome for her. He was clearly a dear friend of her family, and she could easily accept him as such. But something in his stern mannerisms and formality of speaking made it difficult for her to find anything to relate to.

Another thing she noticed was that he lacked significant skills in the fine art of reading people. Preferring to sit in self-admonishing silence and try to accept that she had, in fact, shot three men and stabbed a fourth, Libby believed she'd made it clear that she wasn't to be disturbed that evening. Yet there he sat at her side, talking.

"Why do I surprise you?" she asked quietly, a bit curious.

"Your brother told me you don't fight. When I heard you were alone in the city, I will admit, I feared the worst for you. Your experience with weapons is very little, yet you still managed to defend yourself. It's hard to believe that you ki-"

"Please don't say it!" Libby cried, desperate to stop the words coming out of his mouth. "Yes, I did murder those men, but-"

"It could hardly be considered murder," Ardeth interrupted.

"No, it is murder. When I climbed the ladder, and looked down at them, you know the first thing that went through my head? I wondered if they had a wife and kid back home, if they'd only taken a job with Arabella because they were desperate to find a way to get by. And I just held back, hoping that they'd just walk away. When they didn't... it was me who killed them. I pulled the trigger, I sent the bullet into their bodies. I know you and Rick are used to all this, maybe it's something you just have to be exposed to. It's easy for you- you see a threat, you shoot. But I can barely bring myself to kill someone, and when I do... well I can't just walk away and say 'Oh well, that's the end of that.'"

Ardeth's eyes were stern when she looked at him. "I'm sorry, but I can't just turn my emotions on and off. And that's why I don't want to be reminded of what I did today. Okay?"

 _Shit, I probably offended him_ , she thought. His words had hardly garnered such an emphatic response. It had been worth it though, for the relief she felt once it had been said.

"It is never easy to kill," Ardeth replied softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "My role in life has forced me to accept it as a commonality. I have spent many years defending the sacred sites of Egypt, to protect our nation and our people. In times of danger, I have killed many men, but at the end of the fight, when you look upon your dead enemy... there is no glory there. You must take comfort in that you have fought honorably, you have defended those you love. If you think about that, obviously it will not take the pain away, but it may bring you some comfort."

 _Ok, maybe he's a bit more insightful than I thought_. Mulling over his words, they sat in silence as she stirred the pungent food. The silence between them wasn't awkward, just tense.

"So... can I tempt you with some delicious... something?" she asked, pulling the spoon out of the pot, a thin, reddish-brown liquid dripping off the spoon.

A grimace crossed over his face. "I believe there is a stale piece of bread in my bag that's a bit more appetizing than that." The smile that fell over Libby's face was irrepressible.

The guilt remained, but Ardeth's words had brought some comfort. Libby knew that if she was given time, she would get through this. She only hoped that there would be enough time to do that before the next encounter with Arabella's men.

OOO

"Hey there! I need... hello? Hello miss? Excuse me miss, this is sort of a grave situation... No I can't hold... Just put me through to... Well I don't really give a rat’s ass if you think I'm a bore lady. I just need to be put through to England!"

As Rick shouted into the phone, the first and only they had encountered in the small town that lay forty miles outside of Rome, Jonathan smiled half-heartedly at the shopkeeper in an attempt to make up for his brother-in-law's less than exemplary social skills. The shop owner was a portly man in his sixties, who smiled back knowingly, much like a grandfather.

"It's not been the best day for us," he said in sloppy Italian, a language he hadn't spoken since he learned it in university.

"Hello? England? Oh thank god, that last woman... hello? Do NOT tell me I got disconnected!"

There was little Jonathan could do to help Rick arrange transportation out of Italy. He seemed convinced that he would be able to get in contact with an old friend from the legionaries, one with a plane that could get them back to Egypt by the next morning. Instead, Jonathan wandered through the small shop, looking for any items of particular interest.

In fact, he had encountered one. The distinctive yellow bottle sat on the shelf, crying out to him. The flask that was ever in his pocket had not been refilled since their first night in Italy, a whole twenty-four hours before.  _Limoncello... at least one thing today is going right._

"You're still there! Great... oh I'm just  _grand,_ how are you doing? Could you just give me Mahoney's Pub... Which one? How am I supposed to know which one? Can't you just connect me to one, and then if it's wrong, connect me to the other? Oh fine, fine, just give me the one in Surrey..."

Jonathan took the bottle off the shelf and made his way back to the shop owner, grabbing some fresh fruit for the rest of the family. Given the  _delicious_ military-style rations Rick always managed to purchase on these family adventures, he knew the rest of the group would appreciate the gesture. "Nient'altro?" the old gentleman asked. Anything else?

"Mad Dog McGuire!" Rick shouted triumphantly, his international telephone headache finally yielding results. "How the hell are you old buddy? You gotta kid now, you don't say... So I have a bit of a random question for you... Remember that old plane you bought? Does it by any chance still fly?"

Jonathan was about to respond to the shopkeeper's question in the negative, but a small carton to the left of the register caught his eye. The bright orange package with the desert animal was one he'd recognize anywhere- Camel cigarettes. His thoughts immediately went to Libby. Though he'd noticed she normally smoked Lucky Strikes, he knew for a fact she'd been running out of her personal comfort item, much like his empty flask.

She was a bit of a kindred spirit in that way. Rick and Evy had each other to comfort them in the face of danger, and Alex had his parents. Ardeth could bask in the knowledge that once again he'd saved his people. Jonathan and Libby were, in their own way, outsiders to the family, and so they turned to their vices to find comfort.  _It's really the least I could do. She had a rough day, and she certainly saved us the trouble of having to find the scorpion ourselves. The poor woman certainly deserves a break._ Grabbing three boxes, he handed them to the shopkeeper and nodded that he had found everything he needed.

"Good news Jonathan, I have us a late night flight out of Italy. Mad Dog's on his way over from England now with his old bomber. Took quite a bit of pleading, but after I promised him a stake in that nightclub venture you keep talking about, I think he saw things our way."

"But the nightclub is like my child! You can't go giving people's children away!" Rick just smiled, and led his brother-in-law out of the shop, waving his thanks to the shopkeeper.

OOO

Seated comfortably in front of the fire, Rick basked in the silence that had fallen over the camp. Everyone else had gone to sleep, knowing that in a few short hours they'd be joining Mad Dog in his old, decrepit plane.  _Now there's an experience Alex ought to enjoy,_ Rick thought. Mad Dog's unique style of flying was something any kid would enjoy, though he knew his wife would hardly agree.

A rustling came from Libby and Evy's tent, and his little sister emerged. "Richie!" she exclaimed quietly, so as not to disturb the others. Her face was alight with happiness and excitement. "Thank you so much!" In front of his face, she waved a box of cigarettes.

"Where'd you get those from Libs?" he asked. He sure as hell hadn't bought them.

"I thought you brought them back from town for me."

Thinking back to when they were in the shop, he replied, "Jonathan made some purchases, kiddo. Maybe he picked them up for you."

"Oh," she whispered, and Rick watched as her eyes fell on the tent where Jonathan and Alex were now sleeping. "Well then. I'm going to head back to bed then. See you in a few hours." She gave him a kiss on the top of the head, and reentered her tent.

Three hours later, when Rick entered the tent to wake Libby and Evy, he found his sister curled under her single blanket, the box of cigarettes still clutched tightly in her hand.


	17. Aerodynamics

"Rick O'Connell! You didn't tell me you'd settled down with the little lady!" Daniel "Mad Dog" McGuire exclaimed, clasping Rick's hand in his own and slapping him hard on the back.

"There's a good reason for that," Rick muttered, returning the gesture with genuine affection for his old friend.

"Yeah. Evy met him once, about two months before the wedding. Left quite the impression on the poor girl. His invitation to said wedding disappeared in the mail. And by mail, I mean the fireplace in Evy's study," Jonathan whispered into Libby's ear.

"You're kidding me."

"I kid you not." He grinned, and it was infectious, because she felt herself smiling as well.

Libby was done holding grudges against her brother and his family. Somehow, she wondered if unconsciously she'd stopped holding those grudges days before. Evy had become like a sister, and she adored Alex. She and Rick had formed an easy, albeit tentative, relationship. Even Jonathan was tolerable.

How could she hold grudges? They didn't have to come back for her in Rome. All they needed was to find one of the other scorpions and keep it away from Arabella. With Evy's knowledge of Egypt, they easily could have abandoned the two bejeweled insects she had in her pocket and found one of the others. No need to risk their necks and come back for her.

_But they didn't leave me,_ she reminded herself joyfully. Rick had come back for her, as had Jonathan and Ardeth. They'd taken the time to comfort her, to take care of her- something no one had ever done before. So, despite her better judgment (and maybe even her best judgment, in Jonathan's case), she was willing to go on a little faith, and let them wholly into her life.

"It's good to see you again, Mr. McGuire," Evelyn added to the conversation, allowing the Irish man to kiss her hand in an attempt at genteel courtesy.

"And this must be your kid! You'll have to meet my daughter 'Rissa someday. She's maybe a year younger than you."

Alex stared blankly at the over-the-top man, not sure how to respond. Luckily, his father handled the situation. "Give it a few years, buddy, and you'd regret ever introducing your daughter to a heartbreaker like Alex."

The two men laughed heartily. "And the rest?"

"This is Ardeth Bay," Rick said, pointing to the man standing at Alex's side. The two men shook hands. "Then we have Jonathan Carnahan, Evelyn's older brother. And this is my baby sister, Elizabeth."

Mad Dog shook hands with Jonathan, as Rick returned to Evelyn's side. Libby felt the newcomer's eyes fall upon her, and his anything but innocent gaze made her squirm. "So you're Rick's long lost sister?" he asked with a wink.

Her mind went immediately to the old Cairo bar, where decrepit, wrinkled men would undress her with their eyes. One particular memory settled in her head- a drunk man with an indistinct European accent and a handlebar mustache that tottered precariously through the bar every evening. In the abandoned back hallway, his wandering hands had settled upon her waist, quickly moving upwards, pulling at her clothes, before the bartender had inadvertently saved her when he replenished the stock of brandy. She'd hoped that she'd seen the end of such behavior when the gambling stopped. Evidently she was wrong.

Mad Dog grabbed her hand suddenly, and with a bow said, "It's a pleasure to… oh…" As he looked up to see her face, he dropped her hand.

Turning quickly, he called to the others. "Rick, let's get this baby going. The plane's around back."

Letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, she muttered, "That was uncomfortable," to Jonathan.

Had Libby chosen to look at Jon's face, she would have seen what remained of the vicious and threatening glare he'd given to one Mad Dog McGuire.

OOO

"You  _lost_ it?" Arabella screamed. "How could that little bitch possibly escape? Please, indulge me with a good reason, David. Because right now, I can't think of any!"

"She fought back," Davey said quietly, shuffling his feet on the velour carpet in the old woman's hotel room.

"You assured me she wouldn't. You told me there was no way that Elizabeth would ever defend herself. Yet now, you claim, she took out six men on her own?"

"Five. O'Connell killed the sixth, and his wife took out a few more."

"Details, details- the girl is a threat. Do you not understand the concept of leadership David? I sent you to keep the mercenaries on track, not to get yourself captured," Arabella sneered. "Once you morons figure out where the hell Menkahour's tomb is,  _I_ will be leading the expedition."

_Good, maybe you can mysteriously die in the desert as well_ , Davey thought. "Whatever you say, Aunt Chatham," he responded politely.

"MRS. CHATHAM!" a deep, baritone voice in the outer hallway shouted. Three men entered the room without knocking, carrying a heavy granite tablet between them. "You're gonna want to see this."

OOO

_Yeah, that's right, you keep walking. What is he thinking, looking at my—our—Libby like that?_  Jonathan watched the relieved look ease onto Libby's face and felt slightly less guilty about staring down their free-ride out of Italy. Mad Dog's stare was one he'd seen before, was one he was certain that he had given to women in his younger days.  _Well, someone has to keep an eye out on Libby, because Rick obviously isn't._

He paused in his thoughts.  _Right, you keep telling yourself that, old boy._

Where had this protective streak come from? He wanted to believe that it was because Libby was Rick's sister, or because he'd invested so much time searching the streets of Cairo for her. But the truth was, he knew inherently that neither of those options were the truth.  _It's because we're alike. We're the two outsiders in the group. We've got to look out for each other._  Jonathan planned to continue telling himself that—at least, until he figured out the real reason behind his need to gouge out the eyes of any man that looked at Libby the wrong way.

"Shall we go see this bloody contraption we'll be flying in?" he asked Libby jovially, the rest of the family already following Mad Dog to his plane.

"Uh… sure," she replied hesitantly. Libby followed him silently around the side of the old airplane hanger, untouched since the end of the Great War.

Tilting to one side because the two wheels were unevenly attached, only a few areas of the metal exterior of the plane still gave off the dull sheen of steel. The rest of the body was rusted horribly, the wings seeming to bend in the gentle breeze that swooped by from time to time. Edges on the propeller blade that should have been smooth were rough and jagged, another piece of evidence that the bomber had corroded over time. It was maybe thirty feet in length at the longest, getting narrower in width at the back end.

All in all, it was in a sorry state, and Jonathan could not help but ponder how it had arrived in Italy in one piece.

"No way. Absolutely not. I got on a boat for you people, I am not getting in that death trap." Libby looked absolutely terrified at the thought of boarding the plane.

_Finally, someone else in this group has a shred of common sense!_ Rick, Ardeth, and to his surprise, Evelyn did not. They were already loading the gear they were carrying into the tail end, Alex directing them on the proper arrangement of the bags within the cramped quarters of the back of the plane. Mad Dog stood near a long line running from the hanger that was pumping gas into the tank.

"Let's go you two!" Rick called.

"No way in hell I'm getting on there without a drink," Jonathan grumbled, gulping the limoncello from the flask. He politely offered some to Libby, but she already had a cigarette in her mouth.

"Let's GO! You know, we gotta fight the bad guys, save the world." Alex and Evy were already on board, Ardeth stepping into the main section of the plane. Jonathan watched as Libby sighed, the smoke from her cigarette passing through two light pink lips and curling around her in the air. Flicking the cigarette to the ground, she took a second to gather her nerves and joined her brother.

With one last gulp from the flask, he followed Libby aboard the bomber, instantly feeling claustrophobic. Two seats were installed in the back of the plane, wobbling unstably as the passengers moved passed, the torn velour a puce color. Alex and Evy had already commandeered the seats, and Ardeth and Rick had wedged themselves into the cockpit with Mad Dog. "Sorry about the seating arrangement. There's some crates in the back to sit on. Just make yourself comfortable. Ain't had enough time yet to make this into a proper passenger vehicle."

"The only proper thing to do with this  _vehicle_  is to send it to the dump _,_ " Jonathan added quietly.

"Aunt Libby, do you want my seat?" Alex asked politely.

She smiled back at the boy, taking a seat on the potato carton that was to the left of the apple crate that Jonathan was sitting on. There was little room where they sat, as all of the family's belongings were stacked in the same space. "No thanks, kid. Now strap yourself in. Better safe than sorry!"

Her voice was cheerful, a tone Jonathan noticed seemed to be reserved for Alex. The boy quickly complied with his aunt's request, though it would do little good if they hit bad turbulence. The safety belt was barely attached to the seat, held on by several fragile strands of thread.

"You do realize he'd be fine sitting back here, old mum?" he asked as she settled onto the crate.

"Yup," she replied nonchalantly. As the plane's engine spluttered to a start, her hands quickly gripped the wooden slats of her seat, knuckles already paled in fear. "I am totally and completely fine."

OOO

Charlie Sterling was never the type of kid to do what he was told. He supposed he lived up to the notion that red heads had a fiery independent streak. At seven, his mother told him not to wander away from her side as she made her purchases at the grocers in London. Within five minutes Charlie walked away, never looking back. At twelve, Butch, the leader of a gang he'd run into trouble with had told him he was in for a world of pain after Charlie kissed his sister. He never felt a bit of that pain - he'd jumped off the abandoned dock and climbed on a ship that he thought was heading to America.

That was how he ended up in Egypt.

It was therefore a departure from character that, when the woman Davey so vigorously hunted told him to escape from Arabella's grasp, he chose not to ignore her words. Sure, initially he'd forgotten her warning, choosing to return to the car and continue the fruitless search for some ancient insect. But in the past twenty-four hours, her words had preyed on his young mind.

_She's obviously had run-ins with Davey and Arabella before. And neither of them is tellin’ the truth about the real reason for getting these scorpions. Do they really think that I think we're collectin’ these for a museum? We wouldn't be getting’ shot at if these scorpions were for a museum. Bollocks, I've gotten myself into a right mess fallin’ in with this group, haven't I?_

At seventeen, Charlie could easily have been the most gullible of Arabella's minions. No one gave him credit for being half-intelligent. He knew he had to find out the precise reason why Arabella wanted the scorpions, because if that Libby girl was right, there was a very good chance his life was in danger.

That was why, as Davey and Arabella anxiously examined a giant stone slab that had just arrived, Charlie sat tucked behind the heavy drapery in the window, concealed from everyone's view. _Gotta save yourself now, Charlie Sterling. There's no one else that'll do it for you._

"What does it say, David?" Arabella's demanded.

"If you'd give me a second, Aunt, I could tell you that," Davey replied, annoyed.

_Wait, they're related?_  Already Charlie knew there was missing information in the story he'd been given. This was a little detail Davey had failed to mention.

"Where'd you find this?" Arabella asked the men who had brought her the slab.

"A secret compartment near Cleopatra's writings. We had a chance to further explore the ruins at Karnak when the Medjai disappeared for some time. While attempting to translate the final clue, a stone gave way under Artemev's hand. The mechanism lifted a door on a second column. There was a shallow compartment that contained this stone."

Silence fell over the room, and Charlie restrained his breathing the best he could, praying that he wouldn't sneeze or cough, or draw any sort of attention onto himself. "Oh my god," Davey softly exclaimed.

"Tell me. NOW!" Arabella's patience, if it could even be called that, was at an end.

"There is…" Davey started. He paused momentarily, either to collect himself or heighten the drama, Charlie wasn't sure. "There is a way to bring back Seth before all the scorpions are collected."

OOO

"You ok there, Libby-love?" Jonathan asked softly, about forty-five minutes after their jolting take-off.

Libby gave him what she hoped was an incredulous look, though she was sure that the terror she felt in her mind was probably present on her face instead. Between the way each breeze seeped through the cracks in the plane's body and the constant creaking of the rusty wings, all of her courage had left her.  _What is he, an idiot? I am clearly not okay. In fact, I'd venture to say I'm close to having a bloody heart attack!_

"This is your first time on a plane, isn't it?"

"Considering I have never left Egypt, that would be a fairly safe assumption," she replied through clenched teeth. "And must we discuss the awful nickname again?"

"This ride isn't that bad, I promise you. Once, when we had to rescue Evelyn from Imhotep, I got strapped to the wing of a plane even older than this. One demon sand-storm later we crashed into quicksand, and you're brother nearly continued his Evelyn hunt without me."

_If only Rick had... wait, no, remember Libby, we're trying to be friends with Jonathan now. He's a good man, for the most part. Be nice._

"Evy told me that story. You know, when I was chucking the plates at you back in the hotel, I thought you were a complete nut with all your mummy-talk. It's far-fetched but... it seems like something the four of you would have done. Raising a mummy, I mean."

He smiled, crookedly. "Believe me, now that I know you, it makes total sense that I would steal the most troublesome artifacts from you. The box, the scorpion- you know how to find them, now, don't you?"

"Hey, I don't find them, people give them to me!" Libby defended with good-humor.

_This isn't so bad. I like witty conversation, and apparently Jonathan actually has some sort of wit... we could do this whole friendship thing!_

"Where did you get the key to Hamunaptra from, anyway?"

Libby's response to his question was put on hold, however, when the plane veered right sharply, throwing her off the crate. Hands outstretched before her, she prepared to hit the floor, or even worse, the other side of the plane, where the metal seemed so thin that it might just break underneath her weight and send her falling into the Mediterranean. As she braced herself, she suddenly stopped hurtling forward. An arm reached out and grabbed her around the waist.

"Gotcha," a distinctly British accent whispered. As his breath hit her ear, she felt a gentle tickle that quickly turned into an all-out shiver moving through her body.

"Sorry 'bout that! Bit of a storm coming in from the Arabian Peninsula. Shouldn't affect us too badly," Mad Dog shouted over his shoulder.  _Shouldn't he be looking out the front window?_

Rick obviously read her mind, because he placed a hand on the pilot's head and redirected it forward.

OOO

As Libby pulled away and resettled herself on the crate, Jonathan unwrapped his arms from around her waist. A sense of loss coursed through him. While he wanted to contemplate how that fit into the grand scheme of his new-found friendship with the woman, he decided that his mind had a better use in distracting her from an obvious fear of flying.

"I hate planes," Libby stated, further confirming his belief.

"I thought you hated boats?" he shot back, thinking back to the semi-peaceful moment on deck where he helped her through her seasickness.

"I hate them too. The train was ok."

"Did I tell you what happened on the train the second time we ran into Imhotep?"

"Are you trying to make me fearful of every existing mode of transportation? At this rate, I'll build a house wherever we land this damned plane and live out the rest of my days there as a hermit." The plane shifted again, but this time, it dipped down. Libby's hand quickly grabbed his. "What's happening?"

"Dunno, love. I'm sure it's nothing."

Strong winds could be heard outside, the soft pit-pat of rain quickly growing louder. Jonathan couldn't be sure, but he thought it might even be hailing. The plane dipped again, farther still. In the cockpit, Jonathan could hear Mad Dog shouting at Ardeth and Rick, telling them to pull levers, hit buttons, anything to get the plane to level. "I should go-"

"Don't you dare leave me," Libby hissed, gripping his hand even tighter and moving closer to him. Lower and lower the plane fell, until Jonathan could look out the window and see the blue-gray water beneath them.

"I won't," he promised quickly, placing a reassuring hand on the small of her back. Looking to the seats, Alex was sitting on his mother's lap, hiding his head in her shoulder, his boyish pride not standing in the way of showing his fear.

"Are you sure that gas you put in the plane was still good?" Rick asked.

"How should I know? I dunno how long that hanger's been abandoned!" Mad Dog, shouted back. "Pull the red one. I said the red one!"

"This is the last time I come to you for a plane, Mad Dog McGuire!"

"It very well may be, if we crash into the sea!"

Libby let out a groan that nearly turned into a whimper. Jonathan pulled out the flask in his pocket, attempting to take a long drink, but found himself with empty hands. Libby had taken the flask and was taking long gulps of the limoncello. Wiping her lips on her sleeve, she handed it back to him. Jonathan adeptly finished it off, then tossed it aside.

"We're going to be fine, you know," he said.

"Whatever you say," she replied, one hand holding his, the other covering her eyes.

"Okay, this is either going to bring us back up, or kill us all," Mad Dog said loudly, unaware that everyone in the back of the plane could hear what was meant only for Rick and Ardeth's ears. "Ready? On the count of three."

Jonathan pulled Libby close, allowing her to hide her head against his chest. If Mad Dog's flying skills failed, at least she wouldn't have to see the results.

"ONE... TWO... THREE!"


	18. Powerful, Powerless

_This is it! This is what I've been waiting for._ Arabella Chatham was absolutely exuberant. To raise Seth without the complication of finding the four elusive scorpions? It was an unexpected delight, one which she had never considered possible.

"Quickly, David, what does it say?" Her voice betrayed the excitement she felt, and for once she didn't care if her lust for power was hidden or not. For most of her life, the only thing that stood between her and her dreams was the O'Connell family. And now it seemed that, for all their hard work, power would be all her's this time.

"Give me a second, Aunt, please. I want this to be done right. Who knows what could happen if a single word of the spell is wrong?"

 _If I was lucky, it would get rid of you,_  she thought snidely. Davey had been useful, but she could only tolerate his obvious failures to a point. Not desperate enough to plead with him for the translation, much as she wished to, she waited in silence, a regal glare cast upon all those within the room.

Arabella Chatham was not born to be a woman well-respected by academia. Her mother, a London prostitute, never was quite sure who her father was- every year it was a different man: the South Street baker, the soldier guarding Hyde Park, the bloody king himself. The flame-haired little girl spent her childhood moving from brothel to shanty to the streets, a pattern repeated frequently. Crying wouldn't draw mummy's attention away from the man she was servicing. Education? It was never an option, because the money wasn't there. A feeling of utter powerlessness crept over her being; one which seemed to overshadow her life for much of her childhood.

The first man to ever try and hit her was the only one that did. At sixteen, as she cooked a dinner of thin potato broth, one of her mother's drunken clients stumbled into the kitchen from the bedroom, pants half down around his ankles. His voice had slurred as he spoke, making him entirely incomprehensible, though Arabella was certain he was trying to coax her into the bedroom herself. When she ignored him, he pulled her around and raised a hand to hit her.

Too bad he wasn't paying attention to the clear-thinking teenager. Arabella took the kitchen knife that she held in her hand, and plunged it deep into his stomach. Horror quickly faded into an extreme satisfaction, and as he writhed in pain on the floor, she pushed the knife in again.

And again.

And again.

And when she pulled away, his body lying still on the floor quivering in the last pulses of life, she felt no remorse, but a clear satisfaction. The incident taught her only one thing: power would not be given to her by any other living person. Power could only come from herself. She walked out the door that night, and never turned back- not even when she read in the papers the next day that her mother had been sent to jail for murdering Lord Ewan Havisham.

Ten minutes passed, then fifteen, and still she waited for the translation. "Anything?" she asked impatiently.

"Got it! It's not quite as simple as it looks. We need to bring four of the scorpions together at Hamunaptra. Once there, we have to stand before the Altar of Anubis, and recite the sacred spell that's on this tablet," Davey explained, clearly not at all happy that he was revealing such information to Arabella.

The anticipation of almost certain reward was too great for Arabella to bear, and although she was irked that she would have to find one more scorpion, she knew that the reward would be great. Besides, what was finding one more scorpion compared to finding four more? What she had searched for the past fifty years was so close at hand.

"And what happens? What do we gain from this?"

"It won't raise Seth fully. The stone says,  _'I fear my time upon this Earth shall be short, shall prevent me from ever bringing this greatest mission to fruition. My master lays awaiting resurrection, to a new dawn where his mighty reign shall bear down upon these week mortals. A task so great as to reunite the seven that Isis so cleverly concealed requires that persuasion and incentive not prevent thee from completing the task at hand. Unto thee I reveal a spell of my own creation, which shall aid thee on the quest to bring back my lord. The reunion of a quartet of the golden enemy at the City of the Dead will bring thee two of the greatest gifts ever known to man or immortal. First, the wisdom of Seth shall be bestowed upon you. Second, you shall have control of the most loyal of servants; the men who gave their lives in defense of my master and in the search for the seven golden scorpions of Isis. Beware, lest you be too heady in thy newfound power. Mortal you shall remain until the septet is united. I, Imohotep, wish thee the greatest luck on thy journey. May Seth allow that we might be united when he walks amidst us again."_

Arabella smiled as realization dawned upon her. "We need a fourth!" she shouted gleefully, forgetting that Davey had already informed her of this fact. "David, you said you knew the way to Hamunaptra?" The man nodded in response. "Send some of your men there to guard the city. I want the rest divided between finding Menkahour's tomb and stopping the O'Connells. It's my turn to win."

OOO

Libby's iron-grip on Jonathan tightened further as the last number left Mad Dog McGuire's mouth. Unconsciously, he stroked her hair, trying desperately to calm her. The plane tilted upwards, and through the window he could see that they were rising away from the water. The rain remained heavy, though the hail ceased, making the flight back up a bit easier. After almost ten minutes, the plane leveled off. They would survive, another lucky break in this increasingly dangerous mission to save the world.

"Libby," Jonathan began.

"No, I am not moving until my feet are firmly planted on the ground."

He sighed. It didn't particularly bother him that Libby refused to stop clinging to him- but the lack of bothering truly did bother him.  _Bad, bad, bad! This is Rick's sister. Evy's sister-in-law. Just friends… we are just going to be friends… really, really, really good friends. It's all a matter of detaching her from my torso._

"We're going to be fine, old girl. We're going back up!" The whimper that emerged from the still-quaking woman indicated that it didn't matter whether they were going up or down. Libby was not going to move until they landed.

From the cockpit, there was another scuffle, though this time it was not because the plane was crashing. Rather, the three men that had crammed themselves within its confines were attempting to shift positions to allow Rick to exit. As Ardeth stood, his body pressed against the wall, and Mad Dog twisted himself in the pilot's seat, Rick sucked in his stomach and contorted himself to enter the back area of the plane.

"Everyone alright?" he asked, picking up Alex and putting him on his lap. The boy tried to pull away at first, but soon gave his father a hug. Evelyn moved across her seat to be closer to her husband, and Jonathan watched as they just held hands, eyes expressing their relief and fears at the same time. The affection between the two had not waned at all since their marriage, and in a way, he was jealous of what they had.

To play the field, jumping from one woman to another was fun- he wasn't going to lie and say he was ashamed of that portion of his life. But now, Jonathan was finding that he was ready to settle down, to take care of the woman he loved like Rick took care of Evy.

Libby, half in his lap squeezing the life out of him, was only making this wish more evident. Which was why Mad Dog McGuire had to hurry up and land the plane. Once she was out of his arms, he could focus so much better on becoming her one true...

 _Friend, you idiot._   _Just. Bloody. Friends._

Ardeth emerged from the cockpit. "He says we should arrive outside of Cairo within the next half hour."

"Good," Evy said. "Many have thought that Menkahour's tomb was lost to the sands, but when I first came to Egypt, I could  _swear_ I read through a notebook that described its location at the museum. If we find it, I think we'll be able to reach the next scorpion."

Jonathan nodded his approval at the plan. The sooner he got out of this plane, the better. Even if it did mean throwing himself right back into fracas that was the scorpion search.

OOO

 _Magic spells? Ancient prophecies? Are they mental?_ As Arabella and Davey left the room, Charlie snuck out from behind the drapes. His knowledge of Egypt wasn’t the best – hell, he couldn’t even read. But he knew that among the mercenaries there was no one named Seth, which meant that it could only refer to the Egyptian god of war.

Charlie was out. He didn't need to hear any more about their plans, any more of their speeches of power and greatness. There was nothing here for him but the threat of death or eternal damnation. He wasn't a suspicious kid or a superstitious one. He normally didn't believe in magic. If it did exist, it was something that shouldn't be toyed with.

They were greedy and crazy, and they could just as easily leave him behind in the unending desert sands to die, rather than share their riches. Charlie Sterling was not born to die the victim of a psychopath's lust for power.

_I have to get to the woman. O'Connell, that's what they call her. If I can find her, I can tell her what they're planning. She can help me, I can help her. Maybe we both can win…_

As he prepared to leave the window sill where he hid, the drapes were drawn back, revealing Davey. "How much did you hear?" the older man shouted, shoving Charlie up against the window.

"Nothin’!" Charlie squeaked, cursing all the gods he knew that the voice that emerged was more boy than man. He sounded a coward, but he wasn't scared.

He wasn’t.

"So why are you back here?"

"Was takin’ a nap," Charlie replied, the statement sounding more a question when he wanted to say it with confidence.

"Really? So you didn't hear us talking in here?" Davey's face clearly showed that he didn't believe a word that Charlie had said.

"Really." Finally, a phrase came out with certainty.

Davey released him enough to begin breathing again, and Charlie thought that maybe, just maybe, he'd saved his own arse again. Unfortunately, his thoughts were interrupted by shattering glass and the feeling of falling.

As the rough gravel of the Cairo alleyway came closer and closer, Charlie's was determined. 

_Davey wants me to die? Not bloody likely. Nobody tells me what to do._

Then all went black.

OOO

The loss of the warmth and comfort that was Jonathan was abetted by the fact that Libby was now surrounded by sand. Glorious sand. Beautiful, wonderful, sandy sand. She had two feet on the ground and was ready to continue in the family's search. She wasn't midair and falling, she wasn't over a tumultuous ocean, and she most definitely had stopped feeling inappropriate feelings for the man who'd spent most of the plane ride keeping her sane (maybe... almost...).

After a cordial goodbye between Rick and Mad Dog, which she spent sending him death stares for the trauma that was her first trip on a plane, the family and Ardeth walked cautiously back into town. They were prepared at any minute for attack, and Libby made sure she stayed close to Alex. They were the only two without weapons, and if danger did come, she'd taken it upon herself to ensure that the little boy got to safety.

"Do we know where we are?" Libby asked. She didn't recognize the section of Cairo they were in, a rare location indeed, as she'd seen most of the city when she lived on its streets years before.

"Absolutely!" Jonathan replied with a smile. She grinned back even though his answer indicated they were probably off course. It was beginning to become an instantaneous reaction for her to grin after his small comments.

"We are not lost!" Rick stated. "We're thirty blocks from the museum, so we have a bit of a hike to get there. But we are not lost."

They both snorted, knowing that Rick's sense of direction should never be criticized to his face. "And stop laughing!"

It wasn't Rick's shout, but a metal container thrown from a dark side street that got their attention and stopped the giggles.

"O'Connells!" The voice was a loud stage whisper, and instantly drew Libby's attention. She knew that voice.

OOO

Luck or fate, he wasn't sure which was on his side today. But Charlie Sterling knew it wasn't his day to die. Only two stories up, the fall knocked him out. He was banged up, dried blood on his back from the glass window he'd gone through, head and back aching from the impact with the ground. There would be bruises the next day, and soreness. Other than that, though, he was fine. As he stood, surprised by the lack of damage to his body, he began to walk quickly, and then run, as far from Arabella and her cohorts as he could.

He stuck to alleys, hiding for a few moments before continuing to the next. With bated breath, he waited for Davey or one of his henchmen to find him and kill him on the spot. Yet Davey wasn't the person he found.

It was the O'Connell woman.  _Somewhere in the universe, someone’s lookin’ out for you, Charlie Sterling._

When he whispered to her, he didn't expect her to respond, nor to get her attention. She stopped though, instantly recognizing the voice. He heard a gun cock, ready to shoot, but saw her enter the ally alone.

"You're the kid from Italy."

"Yeah."

"You gonna kill us?" she asked quietly.

"No. I'm not stupid, I heard the gun out there and I know you're with the rest of your family. I'd be an idiot to try. I want you to know that I'm following your advice. I'm done with Arabella and her crowd. I know what they're doing. I know the extremes they'll go through to get what they want. I want out, and I want to stop her. Let me help you."

She looked doubtful, but as she looked him over, he saw the concern etch over her face. “You’re hurt.” She paused to consider her next words. "Give me ten seconds."

She exited the ally, ten seconds turning into ten minutes. Whispers, heated voices, and a few shouts echoed down the alley. The group couldn't decide.

"We're wasting time!" he shouted out. "I know what Arabella wants. She has a way to partially raise Seth without all of the scorpions!"

Six figures entered the alley. Five were the family, the sixth the desert man that was traveling with them. The men all looked intimidating, even the one that was supposed to be an idiot drunk. The second, older woman was pretty and motherly looking. The kid was a few years younger than Charlie.

"Start talking," the American man said. "I have my doubts about you kid, but Evy and Libs seem to think you're worthy of a second chance. Give me a reason to let you come with us."

Ever the master of self-preservation, Charlie started talking without hesitation.


	19. Balance and the Other Half

"You honestly mean to tell me that Arabella found a way to partially revive Seth?" Rick asked incredulously, tipping the antique cherry-wood chair backwards. Evelyn felt herself cringe as she watched, fearing for the existence of the priceless furniture.

"Yessir," Charlie replied earnestly, one of the few sincere statements to leave the young man's mouth. "She's determined to do it. She just needs one more of those scorpions."

In the archives of the stately museum, there was a certain aura of protection that allowed the family to sit and discuss their situation with the red-haired boy without the constant fear of attack. For Evy, though, she still could not enter the building without being a bundle of nerves. Twice she'd nearly died here, and she preferred not to test the old adage, "The third time is the charm."

Still, she could not help but feel at home. The old sarcophagus Jonathan once hid in remained unscathed after being attacked by the plague-crazed mob. Even the cigarette between the skeleton's fingers remained intact. The library, so tenderly and meticulously cared for by Dr. Terrence Bay, still held remnants of his time as curator, and the new reading room, an addition in the past two years, honored his name and his sacrifice.

It was here she realized her love for Rick. That she discovered he was more than an arrogant American rushing her through her hieroglyphic translations and shooting guns at invincible undead. He was an honorable, loyal man, and…

 _Get your head back in the moment, old girl!_ she chided herself.  _Save the world, reflect later._

"Did Davey read the spell aloud at all? If you could give me a few words, it might help us to know what exactly the spell will do," Evy added gently. If they could just get this boy to trust them, it would help immensely.  _The poor child- he couldn't be older than eighteen. How did he fall in with such a crowd?_

"Anything at all, Charlie," Libby added softly, placing a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. "I know Arabella probably threatened you, but you have to believe me when I say we want her dead as much as you do. If we can stop her, you can move on. You can get the hell out of Egypt and do whatever you want with your life."

She watched as Charlie responded to Libby's request, his body relaxing a bit when she said he was free to leave as soon as Arabella was gone. Her sister-in-law was quite the miracle worker. For all her similarities to Rick, of which there were plenty, Libby was definitely the more compassionate of the two. It probably helped that she had endured life with Arabella.

"She ignored me a lot," Charlie said. "Davey on the other hand…"

"He's a real bastard, isn't he?" Libby added. She paused before she spoke again, breathing deeply. Evelyn was certain whatever she had to say was going to be difficult. "The night I ran away from Arabella, her husband had beaten me up pretty bad. It was a bit out of the blue—they'd always tried to persuade me, trick me. Arabella liked to play mind games. But they had never used violence. I ran like hell, and as my luck would have it, I met Davey. He was a lot like me: an orphan, no real home, wanted to make a life for himself. I never questioned how perfect it was that I ran away from home and all of a sudden found someone who wanted to be my friend, my partner in crime. I trusted him, and it was a huge mistake. The whole time, it was a plot by Arabella. She  _planned ahead_ in case I ran away, to keep me within eyesight always. Six years it went on like that before it finally came to a head. They already know, Charlie, but you don't. I killed her husband. Shot him- Davey too, though with slightly less success."

Charlie's face dropped as she spoke. "You… you understand?"

"More than you know."

 _I'll never get used to these little life stories,_  Evy thought, filled with sadness. Every time a small sample of information was revealed, it was like an anvil being dropped: shocking, cold, a stark reminder of the distinct difference between Libby's childhood and her own.

Trying to catch Rick's eye, she instead saw Jonathan. Where normally he'd be throwing back large gulps of vodka, adding in an amusing comment, his face was devoid of any emotion excluding one: compassion.  _What's got him so distracted?_

Following his line of vision, she found her gaze returning to the storyteller. Libby was staring back at him.  _Oh goodness… Libby and Jon?_

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ardeth, pulling away from the table. "I must go to my men in the city. Whatever they know about the situation can only serve to aid us." He swept out of the room, robes trailing behind him, with no further discussion.

"Let's get to work finding this notebook," Rick said quietly. "Charlie comes with me and Alex. Evy, you and Libby together. Jon, you're on your own."

"And that's the truth of it," Jonathan muttered, so low that only Evy could hear.  _Very, very intriguing…_

OOO

Skimming through pages of cryptic, verbose notes, Davey gazed out the shattered window out which young Charlie had been flung just minutes before. The kid was dead, not that it mattered to him much. What did it matter if the boy lived or died? They were all as good as dead, unless he was able keep the power of Seth out of Arabella's hands.

Then everyone else would be as good as dead with the exception of Davey - a situation much more appealing to him.

"Why is there a window missing?" He hadn’t heard Arabella enter the room.

"That red-headed kid. He was snooping around, collecting information. I took care of him though," Davey replied, unconcerned. He had more important things to worry about, like choosing a location to search for Menkahour's tomb. Conflicting stories in memoirs written by less-than-dependable amateur archaeologists made the search even more difficult. Four potential areas to look for a pyramid that no one living had ever seen - oh yes, that was a bundle of joy right there.

"You did WHAT?"

The surprise and anger in her voice didn’t register. "I took care of it Arabella. Like you took care of my mum, right?" he added, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Arabella was a sadistic bitch if one had ever existed. His Uncle Edwin, when they'd first married, had been a decent man, though having an excessive love for money and fame. Didn't everyone have their faults?

But his mother, Loretta, had always been a bit off her rocker, full of irrational fears. And when it seemed that Edwin might be devoting a bit more time to her than to Arabella... well, that was when the batty old woman made her move. Little things—holding matches too close to Loretta's clothes, flailing knives a bit too close to the skin, whispering horrors in her ears as they passed in the hallway- occurred every day, and Edwin ignored it. Ignored Davey's pleading to stop the woman, because he was too blinded by lust and greed and power to think of his sister and her child. Every night his mother wailed for the end of days, for God to come down and send her to hell for whatever crime she had unwittingly committed.

Arabella basked in the triumph, watching Davey bawl as his mother was taken away in a horse drawn wagon, the name of the asylum printed on the side of the molding wood so that all knew that Loretta Chatham had finally lost her mind. Every night since, Davey had dreamed of his mother's agony and plotted a way to make all those involved pay in the most excruciatingly painful way.

"Don't sass me, David," Arabella growled, drawing Davey out of his memories. "What did you do with the boy?"

"He's dead Arabella. I threw him out the window."

The woman stood frozen, a look of devastation passing over her face. "You killed him? The boy?" she asked, calmly. "Don't you understand that he's the key?"

Walking over to the window, Davey looked down. "Don't be ridiculous Arabella, the scorpions are the key."

Davey cringed and yelped in pain, feeling his head smashed into the wall. "NO! THE BOY IS THE OTHER HALF! We cannot succeed without him." Arabella moved to the window. "I don't see a body. I imagine we'll have to find him now as well. Find him and the next scorpion. Otherwise, you're a waste of my time, David. If we succeed in this, you'll be lucky if I let you live."

 _Huh, she'll be lucky if I let her live._ Sulking, he stalked off to find men to search for Charlie.

OOO

"Evelyn, if you thought the notebook was over there, and you sent the boys over there, why aren't we going with them?" Libby asked, as she followed the older woman the complete opposite direction of the others.

"Well, we should cover all possibilities, right? It might have been moved in the past ten years!" Evelyn seemed uncertain of her answer.

 _What are you planning?_ Libby wondered quietly. "So what does the notebook look like again?"

Evy responded, her hand sweeping over the rows of book quickly observing the spines, "Red cover, twine binding, chicken-scratch handwriting. It's nothing remarkable, which is what will make it so difficult to find."

Libby nodded, plopping down on the floor. "Might as well start here!" she said, attempting to be cheerful when the thought of searching through the endless shelves of the enormous library seemed a cruel fate.

For ten minutes the two women searched in silence, methodically working their way through the lower shelves. From the opposite side of the room, echoes of the four men floated by. A loud laugh from Jonathan stopped her in her search, leaving her fingering a book on mummification techniques absent mindedly.

_Libby, you have to pull yourself together. Now. Oh, what's the use, you know you have a bit of a thing for him. Not a huge attachment. Just a little—_

"Libby? Libby! Red notebook. Not blue encyclopedia. " It wasn't a true scolding, more a gentle reminder.

"Sorry Evy," she sighed.

"Are you alright?" Evy asked, moving further down the aisle. Libby finished the shelf she was working on before joining her. "Is this about what happened in Italy again? Because if you want to talk about it, we can take a break. Our lives aren’t easy, and this is new to you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hold it all in."

"Thanks, Evy, but it's not that. You want me to climb up here and look?" Libby grabbed the ladder leaning against a shelf with one hand.

"Sure," Evy replied. Slowly, Libby climbed upwards and began checking the books. As she perused each shelf, Evelyn wheeled the ladder along the corridor. Their progress was quick, and within three-quarters of an hour they'd completed two full rows.

"So," Evy started, breaking the silence. "If it's not Italy and not the search, could the reason for your distraction be a certain gentleman within our merry troupe?"

Libby gasped, tightening her grip on the ladder. "What?"

"Do you have feelings for my brother?"

_Collect your thoughts, come up with a good lie. You could cover your ass as a kid, you can cover it now._

"As a friend? I believe I do. We've decided to put the past behind us and try being friends. We work rather well together, and I think we could really be a good team if we put our minds together."

_There, that's diplomatic enough._

"No, what I meant is as more than a friend. Like Rick and I?"

Climbing the ladder again, Libby searched a new shelf. "Evelyn, really. I've never had time in my life for romance, and I hardly think now would be the appropriate time. Could you hold the ladder steady?"

Evelyn frowned. "Rick and I met saving the world. Love doesn't wait for an opportune time, Libby."

_Why do you care so much? Oh hell, of course she cares. It's her stupid brother…_

"I'm not in love!" she heard herself reply sharply. She paused, collecting herself. "I'm sorry Evy. It's just… I'm worried about us, and about what's going to happen. It's not love sickness, I can promise you that."

"EVY! I THINK I FOUND SOMETHING!" Rick's voice rose over the stacks.

"You know," Evy sighed. "Once upon a time Jonathan said that. And that's how we found Hamunaptra. Rick! Hold on, I—"

She stopped speaking as she turned, apparently spotting something. "What did you find Evy?"

"I'm coming now Rick!" the woman called, ignoring Libby's question.

Evelyn let go of the ladder, running to meet Rick. "EVY!" Libby squealed as the ladder began to wobble without the support at the base. "What are you doing?"

"It's for your own good!" Evelyn shouted back.

_Death? Death is for my own good? Because I am going to fall off this damned ladder and die a miserable death!_

Slowly, she began climbing down the ladder, careful not to pull it away from the shelf that was keeping it stable. Halfway down and luck seemed to be on her side. The ground was in sight, and soon her feet would be on the ground where they belonged.

Then the ladder buckled. "Oh, shit!" she whispered. "Shit, shit, shit!" The ladder pulled away, far from either shelf. Freezing her motions, she waited with baited breath to see whether she would balance or tumble to the ground.

In midair, the ladder stopped, completely upright.  _Thank God. Now, if I just balance here til Evy gets back…_

"Whoa there Libby Love, if you wanted to join the sideshow, you should have auditioned back at the Circus Maximus! Get it? Circus, side—"

"JONATHAN!" Libby shrieked. When she jumped in surprise at his voice, the ladder began tipping forward, velocity increasing, as she crashed toward the books.

"Gotcha, as always, love," he said ( _almost debonairly_ , she thought, nearly disgusting herself at the overbearing romanticism of the observation), as he stepped between the ladder and the shelf, holding her up.

Libby's face was nearly level with Jonathan's as she looked through the rungs of the ladder. Just a few inches, no centimeters, and their lips would meet. Heart pounding, she willed him to move closer to her.  _Good lord, Elizabeth O'Connell, you are a sad, sad girl._

_But you want this. You know you want this._

Looking at his face, slight wrinkles crossing his forehead, blue eyes bright, brown bangs messily hanging down, she was almost certain he wanted this too.

OOO

"You'll never guess what I did!" Evelyn announced in a sing-song voice as she approached Rick, not even looking at the table he sat at.

"Don't you want to see the notebook?"

"Oh, bloody hell, it can wait. Guess what I did?" Her grin was infectious, and Rick found himself tossing the book aside to indulge his wife.

"What did you do, oh brilliant wife of mine?"

"Well, Libby and Jonathan are very clearly attracted to each other, and I decided to give them a little push in the right direction. So I left her at the top of one of those ladders when you called, because I saw Jonathan walking in our direction. And now that she's stuck up there, Jonathan can rescue her! Pure genius!"

 _Is this my wife speaking?_ Rick wondered. Evy was levelheaded. Evy was focused on the task at hand. Evy did not go on flights of fancy when the world had to be saved. "You left my sister on an unstable ladder in the hopes your drunken brother would catch her because you think they're in love?"

"Well, you don't have to put it that way," she said, quite put out. "Let me see what you found."

The red notebook was just as she remembered, though the handwriting was a bit dimmer than it once was. Opening it, on the inside cover the name Karl Richard Lepsius was clearly written. "This is it Rick. This is it!"

Skimming through, she saw the estimated coordinates that the scientist had written down.

"You see, Lepsius went searching in Saqqara for Menkahour's tomb back in the 1850's. They found it, but soon after, their funding ran out and they were forced to return home. They estimated the coordinates of their location, and left. When they returned, the pyramid was gone. Lepsius died without ever finding the tomb again, and no one else could find it. But these coordinates, they're a start. We can work from here!"

"So…"

"So tomorrow we're leaving Cairo again. We need camels, and supplies. You find Libby and Jon, I'll get the boys, and we'll meet with Ardeth. We'll spend the night here, and in the morning head out. Do you have all that, love? Good, now get going! Step to it!"

 _Aha, my wife has returned,_ Rick thought, strolling away to save his sister and brother-in-law from Evy's romantic delusions.

OOO

"We should find Evy," Jonathan whispered softly, without moving. Libby was so bloody close, it seemed fate was toying with him.

"I know." At least she wasn't running away.

Moving in closer, he felt their foreheads touching. "I think they found the notebook. We might be moving out."

"Definitely a possibility."

"We could keep searching though…" he pondered aloud.

"Knowing Rick, it's probably the wrong notebook," Libby suggested in a whisper.

"There's a lot of shelves in this library," he whispered back.

Their noses touched, and one more move would finally bring just a bit of relief. Neither, however, seemed willing to take that last chance. One minute they stood, two minutes, waiting.

Taking a deep breath, Libby willed herself to move in and just kiss him.

"You two ready to head out?" Rick's booming voice sent them apart, Libby jumping off the ladder onto the floor, and swiftly moving down the aisle before her brother actually turned the corner.

"Yes. Yes please. If we have a location on the tomb, let's get moving." Libby power walked away, leaving a confused Jonathan in her wake.

Ignoring the pitying glace from Rick, Jonathan followed her, frustrated and annoyed with himself.


	20. Mummy May I?

"Nathaniel! Nathaniel look!" the young man called to his friend, his pimple-spotted face beaming in the sunlight. All discretion and thoughts of decorum had been cast aside as the boy continued, "It's a genuine desert man! Bloody brilliant, isn't it? And here I thought we'd just be sitting around Cairo looking after those stuffy scholars from back home!"

Ardeth Bay felt his face contort in annoyance. More than anything, he wanted to knock the boyish army officer to the ground, ruin his pristine uniform and teach him a lesson about the spread of the English language through Egypt. For as serious and calm as he painted himself to be, Ardeth was only a man, and one who had just been insulted. He resisted, though, knowing that the officer was barely more than a naïve child. The boy hardly deserved to be experiencing the art of war in its most dull form: stuck in a quiet outpost with two or three other officers, protecting the citizens of Great Britain who lived within the city limits.

Taking a moment to glance around him, he discovered that the two boys were not the only officers. The streets of Cairo had seemingly become a mass of British regulars.  _Has it been that long since I've been through the city? Storming Miss O'Connell's hotel hardly counts as a genuine overview of Cairo, so it must have been… five months? That's impossible! The protection of the scorpions has caused you to neglect your other duties, Chieftain Bay._

"Egypt has far too many secrets for one man to protect alone," he muttered, pushing his way through the mass of troops towards the inconspicuous building that housed the army of Medjai that watched over the city.

_How could we not have known of the tablet, and moreover, not be vigilant enough to know that it was being taken? I leave my best men at Karnak- what sort of excuse could they have to forsake their duty to such an extreme?_

Bustling crowds of shoppers meandering from stall to stall, their arms laden with produce, fish, and meat, slowed his progress. The shouts of young boys playing ball in the streets and of men debating the latest world politics (of which he knew he should be more knowledgeable) resonated through the air.

So angry he was at himself and the situation that he and the world were in, when Ardeth reached the door and rapped in the pattern he'd been taught years before, he was a force to be reckoned with. The door opened slowly, without noise, and a shadowed face appeared.

"Allah be praised, Chieftain Bay is here!" the voice exclaimed, clearly filled with relief. Ardeth recognized it immediately as Akram, one of his close childhood friends and the man charged with leading those who remained at Karnak. He opened the door just wide enough for Ardeth to slip in. "My lord, we have been—"

"What has happened? How could we not know of this tablet?" Ardeth interrupted, a reaction that he knew was atypical. In the worst of times, he normally had an acute ability to remain calm. Not today. "How could you have allowed Chatham's mercenaries to access Karnak?"

"My lord, we had no idea. I apologize and take full blame for our foolhardy behavior."

"Foolhardy is hardly the word, Akram. What could have possibly been so important it required you to remove all of our men from the temple?"

"We received word from Hasid- he sent a messenger bird- that Hamunaptra was under attack by Chatham and her men. He said that they were fast approaching, would be there by the next morning. There was no time for any other group to ride out to him. We were the closest. I feared… if we had to fight the monster, as well as this woman…" he trailed off, deep in thought at the possibility, and Ardeth slowly felt the anger ebb away at this conclusion. "I contacted Lukman to send men to Karnak, and left five behind to protect the temple. We rode to Hamunaptra where we found Hasid near death, his men massacred. My lord, if I had known—"

With a sigh, Ardeth interrupted him. "I should not have passed judgment so quickly, Akram. You were right to protect the city. Thank Allah your wits are always about you. This woman, she is smarter than anyone could anticipate. To know that a threat to Hamunaptra would distract us, to set up a ploy that allowed her to attack so quickly while appearing so far away…." Massaging his forehead, he felt the stress of the past week building.

Three times in the twelve years he ruled the Medjai, the world had been in danger. His father, in all his fifty years as leader, had never dealt with such fiascos. With faith and devotion to his work, the secrets that lie within the sands had never once been discovered. Ardeth had followed his example, mimicked his every action. Why was it, then, that only he faced complete decimation of the world so frequently?

"I fear the worst, old friend," Akram replied wearily, formality fading as he saw Ardeth's exhaustion. "That young man, Kaysar. The injured boy that O'Connell's sister knew? He has been helpful, spying on Arabella's mercenary camp. Many have been abandoning her cause, and joining with the British army that's here. Apparently Germany is threatening Britain's colonies farther west on the continent. They want a more exciting fight, and a hero’s welcome back home. Yet Arabella is still strong, even with her losses. Kaysar has heard rumors that the tablet will raise Seth."

"He is right. It will revive him partially."

"Then let us waste no more time with idle chatter. We must regroup and double our efforts. We cannot allow Seth to be revived. If it is a fight to the death, so be it."

Proud of his friend and feeling his spirit lifted, Ardeth huddled over the detailed desert maps with Akram to arrange their next line of defense.

OOO

"Bloody hell," Alex muttered as he picked himself up off the hard wooden bench he slept on. Rick had insisted they stay the night at the museum in order to avoid leaving a trail for Arabella to follow. The linen blinds that covered the window of the curator's office left a small crack open, allowing the bright morning light to shine directly into his eyes. Unfolding the jacket that served as a makeshift pillow, he stretched his arms wide. "That was uncomfortable."

He felt two hands grab his shoulder, and he jumped. "I don't think your mother would want to hear those words, young man!" Libby joked, a grin painted across her face. Alex had forgotten she'd fallen asleep sprawled across the curator's chair, after spending the evening almost timidly listening to Evy explain her plan of action.

Swatting her hand away, Alex noticed the grin wasn't all his aunt's face wore. Her eyes were red and dry.  _She's been crying_.

"Aunt Libby…"

"What words wouldn't I want to hear?" he heard his mother ask from the hallway. Libby quickly wiped her eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to appear normal.  _What is she hiding?_ Alex wondered.

"I believe the scare I just gave him has been sufficient punishment for any words that passed his lips," Libby said. "How'd you sleep Evy?"

"Fairly decently, considering we're in a museum," she shot back. There was a moment of silence between the two women, and Alex decided this was his opportunity to sneak away and find his father.  _We men have to stick together. Mum'll figure out what's wrong with Aunt Libby._

"Listen, Libby," he heard his mother say from the doorway. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I shouldn't have left you on the ladder. I was just so excited about finding the journal that I wasn't acting responsibly."

It was the tone of his mother's voice that kept Alex frozen just outside the door. The apology was clearly genuine, but something in her voice was prodding, searching for details. She spoke to him in the same way that one time her archaeological tools mysteriously appeared next to a deep hole in the front garden.

"Apology accepted, Evy" Libby replied with fake cheer, using the glass on a cabinet door to straighten her shirt and pants. As she turned to the left, where her face had been stitched after the hotel fire, she remained intently focused on the scar. She couldn't resist teasing back, though, as she added, "When there's something historical around, there's no stopping you!"

"How did you manage to get down, anyway?"

"Oh!" Libby exclaimed, before collecting herself. "Jonathan ran into me. He held the ladder while I climbed down. He's such a good  _friend._ I just can't understand why we didn't get along when we first met. Hopefully our  _friendship_ will continue to keep us both out of trouble."

Alex was not a naïve child. Libby was clearly emphasizing the point that she and Jonathan were friends. "Oh… well… well that's… that is… good," Evy stuttered.

 _What is mum trying to do? Bloody hell, am I the only one taking this whole adventure seriously?_ Not staying to find out the answer to his question, Alex turned on his heel and left to seek Charlie.  _At least he can keep his mind on the scorpions._

OOO

"Find Charlie. Find the key. Woman's bloody off her rocker," Davey mumbled as he tripped over a half-starved cat. As it clawed at his ankle, he gave it a swift kick, sending it across the road. The cat didn't move again.

The bars on the windows of the museum, installed by the exceedingly nervous curator after the boil ridden armies attacked, did not keep Davey from seeing the happenings within. In the grand treasure room, Charlie and Alex sat perched on the edge of a sarcophagus, the younger boy chattering away incessantly. Charlie was not having any of it and was ignoring him with the exception of a well-placed nod here and there. Nearby, Jonathan and Rick diligently looked over their weapons, preparing to load them with fresh bullets. The women were nowhere to be seen.

 _That sarcophagus. I wonder…_  Davey thought, pulling a rumpled piece of paper from his pocket. Eyes skimming over the words that were written out phonetically, he slinked along the side of the building to the fire escape, climbing to the roof.  _I knew there had to be a skylight._

The glass was thin, but Davey was long past concern for his own well-being. He did, after all, work for Arabella. Gently placing his palms against the glass, he scaled onto the window, looking directly into the sarcophagus where the two boys sat.

Inside sat two mummies, decrepit and decaying. "There we go!" Davey muttered, placing the paper flat against the glass so he could read it.

If Arabella had a weakness, in Davey's opinion, it was her inability to read the hieroglyphs her plans depended on. She was strong, she was determined, she had a frighteningly logical brain in her head when she wasn't developing insane schemes for power. But when the ancient texts, those words that were entirely necessary to achieve her goals, passed by her eyes, she was entirely dependent on Davey.

 _Well, everyone makes poor life choices sometimes_ , he snickered silently. There was more to the tablet than a means to resurrect Seth partially, but what Arabella didn't know couldn't hurt her.

Davey had studied his history. He knew that the Book of the Dead was the ultimate source for resurrections. All the instructions were written there, but it had been lost to the ages, destroyed in the collapse of Hamunaptra, along with the words it contained.

At least, until now.

Imhotep was more than a murderer. He was diligent. He was intelligent. Several thousand years before, he had been prepared for potentially losing the Book of the Dead, meticulously copying the words onto a stone tablet he hid at the Temple of Karnak.

OOO

"So what did you say to Libby to get her angry at you again?" Rick asked jovially. "She was practically running away from you in the library yesterday."

Jonathan looked up, surprised.  _Well, old boy, at least he didn't see the almost-kiss. That saves you the obligatory 'older brother' talk._

"Oh… I scared her accidentally. She nearly fell off the ladder, but I grabbed her just in time. Didn't stop her from getting royally angry with me. I'm luck she didn't start flinging books at me."

Rick laughed. "Gotta stop doing that buddy. You were just making some headway with her too."

Turning to Charlie, and indicating he should come over, Rick didn't hear Jonathan's mumbled reply.

"Don't you think I know that?"

A cool breeze rushed through the building, causing him to shiver.  _Wonder who left the window open?_

Taking a small pistol from its holster, Rick handed it to Charlie. "For you. Use it to protect yourself. If you use it against us though, I swear to God I'll kill you."

With a gulp, Charlie nodded and took the gun. The three men remained in silence, looking over the guns, solemnly preparing for what lay ahead in the desert.

Jonathan had forgotten Alex was even in the room, until he heard the screams from behind them.

"DAD! DAD HELP ME!" Turning around quickly, with gun locked and loaded, Jonathan was unprepared for what he saw.

He expected a mercenary, or in the worst case, Davey. Definitely not a linen-clad, rotting arm with a cigarette propped between two molded fingers. Slowly it wrapped around Alex's neck, his face quickly turning blue, and began dragging him into the sarcophagus. The arm was attached to a mummy with its mouth open wide, screaming with gravelly voice.

"Rick, what's going on?" Evy called, running downstairs. "Oh my God."

Without hesitating, Rick ran to Alex's side, ripping the mummy's arm from around his shoulder. The force with which he pulled sent the arm flying backwards, and Jonathan ducked down to dodge the projectile, pulling Charlie down with him. Alex scampered away, hiding behind him, as Evelyn rushed to his side.

The mummy staggered away from Rick into the far wall of its stone coffin, clutching where its arm had once been. It looked down at the gaping hole, then back at the living people. "Ok," Rick whispered, "No one do anything—"

Three shots were suddenly fired, ricocheting off the stone sarcophagus into an ancient urn and several other priceless antiquities.

"What the fuck is this?" Charlie screamed as the mummy fell, gun waving wildly between the mummy and the other. If he wasn’t careful, he’d shoot one of them out of sheer terror. "Is this some fucking joke? To scare me into behaving? What the hell is wrong with you people? Crazy… every bloody person I've met since I came to this damned country is crazy!"

Rick ignored Charlie's outburst, stepping forward quickly to pluck the gun out of the boy’s hand. "Jonathan, Evy, help me pick up the table. We're gonna make sure this guy doesn't go anywhere. Is Libby still upstairs?" Evelyn nodded in affirmation as the three easily tossed the table onto the now-still mummy.

"And you," Rick continued, turning back to Charlie. "Calm yourself down. You think this is a trick? You think we put our son in danger for fun? You've got another thing coming if you do. Think about it buddy. Do you honestly think that Davey told Arabella everything written on that stone?"

"Uh… dad?" Alex said quietly.

"Gimme a second Al. Davey's a conniving little bastard, if I've ever seen one and-"

"Dad!" Alex repeated.

"Alex, let me finish!" Rick's face was red, a combination of annoyance, anger, and fear for his son. "Davey knows a way to bring back the dead, and he found it on that tablet. And if there's a living mummy here, that means he's here. We need to go!"

"DAD! THERE WERE TWO MUMMIES HERE BEFORE!"

"What?"

"Oh my God," Evy whispered, peering into the sarcophagus.

"HOLY SHIT!" a shout emanated from the upstairs office, followed by the sound of steel hitting glass.

 _Oh God, Libby_ , Jonathan thought. Shoving Rick aside he sprinted upstairs, leaving the rest of his family gaping in his wake.

OOO

 _Get over it. Just move on Libby. It was an accident. You just accidently fell on him and you accidently got within centimeters of kissing. That does not mean a kiss was going to happen._ Sighing, she continued to look herself over in the glass window. She wasn’t a particularly vain woman – there was no sense in vanity when you were constantly on the run- but there would be a permanent scar where Tamir had taken his knife to her face, and the thought made her cringe.  _That's a lovely little souvenir. At least I'll have something to remember this by._

Someone bumped into the table behind her, causing her to jump. "Time to leave already, Evy? Did you figure out what was wrong with Alex?" she asked, turning around. "HOLY SHIT!"

Gray and brown, hollowed eyed, and with a scythe that was taller than her body, the mummy stood with the blade poised t strike her head. As it began to swing down, she threw herself out of the way, hitting the bookcase hard with her shoulder. The shelves collapsed upon impact, the antiques they housed crashing to the ground.

The mummy stumbled backwards, pulling the scythe back into its grasp. It moved to swing again. "Oh no you don't, you bastard," she whispered, throwing herself to the floor.

Libby crawled quickly over to the curator's desk. Flinging open drawers, she searched frantically for something heavy to defend herself with. Pens, papers, business cards, all were tossed aside.  _Shit, what am I going to do? Give old crusty a paper cut?_

Her hand landed on a hard stone. A paper weight. As the mummy struggled to pull the scythe out of where it had lodged in the wall, she tossed the rock a few times to ascertain the weight. It abandoned the heavy weapon and began moving towards her, arms spread wide to grab her.

Rearing back, she threw the rock with a force she did not realize she had. It hit the mummy square in the head, leaving a hole straight through. "Yes!" she shouted victoriously.

The cheer came too soon. Headless, it continued towards her.  _Oh I should have known you can't kill the undead that easily. Damn, damn, damn!_ She was cornered behind the desk.

"Libby?" Jon’s voice emerged from the corridor, his feet hitting the ground hard before he slid into the room.

"Jonathan, kill this thing!" she shouted. He fired two shots into the mummy’s knees and it collapsed to the floor.

"We need to keep it from moving. Push the desk over with me," Jonathan instructed as the mummy used its arms to pull its body along the floor towards her. Libby nodded in response and lifted her part of the desk easily, adrenaline still rushing through her.

"Are you alright?"

"Perfectly fine," Libby replied. "Shocked, yes, but I think I prefer mummies to Davey."

"Good thing, old girl," Jonathan replied jovially, slinging an arm around her shoulder. "With this family, a fear of mummies can be a bit of a problem."

Laughing loudly, Libby leaned into his half-embrace, surprised at how easily she relaxed after the latest attack on her life.  _So what if it means nothing? A girl needs something to hold on to when she's running from the undead._

As they emerged from the room, the smirk of satisfaction that passed over Evelyn's face completely escaped Libby's notice.


	21. A Many Sided Man

"This is my way to travel!" Libby exclaimed, leaning back and allowing her face to take in the sun, even though her nose and cheeks were burned pink. "No drunken pilots, no crashing into the sea, no shooters on boats. God, I love camels!"

Sitting up quickly, she hugged the beast overenthusiastically. Jonathan couldn't help but roll his eyes in annoyance and frustration. He struggled valiantly to remain balanced with the large pack of supplies constantly hitting him as it slid from left to right.  _How many trips have I taken into this desert and I still can’t control this thing! What is she, bloody Queen of the Camels?_

The animal beneath him seemed to sense his negative thoughts toward their current leader, as it took two sudden gallops, halting his trail of thoughts as he grappled with the reins to keep from falling into the deep sands.

"Having some problems Jon?" Libby asked as she passed him.

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" he mumbled, though he wasn't really angry. Libby had him caught, like King Kong had caught Faye Ray in that movie he'd brought Alex to see a few years back, much to his mother's chagrin.

"Actually, I would," she replied with a grin, gently tapping the camel to keep it moving.

He smirked.  _There's a reason she remains blissfully unaware of her conquest. It would send her on a sodding power trip!_

A loud shriek erupted from the sky above them, and Jonathan watched as Libby nearly jumped off the camel in surprise. As the hawk swooped down to Ardeth's arm, Jonathan passed Libby asking, "Who's having trouble now, Libby-love?"

The only response he received was one finger, raised high to the sky. "Manners, manners, darling."

"Manners my ass, dearest," she shot back.

"Any news Ardeth?" Evy asked behind him. Jonathan slowed to allow the others to catch up with him. Rick and the Medjai rode at the back of the group, ever prepared for imminent attack.

"My men travel in three groups, an hour behind us, slightly to the east and west, and directly south. A fourth group is securing the area around Saqqara. No one has spotted Arabella or her minions anywhere in the area."

"Thank God." Evy sighed, and Jonathan silently agreed.

"Doesn't mean we're in the clear. We already know she's a crafty bi-"

"Rick, you're son…" Evy warned, cutting her husband off quickly.

Alex's reply of "Mum, I know what a bitch is," quickly earned him a scolding, as they continued through the searing desert.

OOO

"Some days, you really do prove your worth, David." Arabella commented, shifting her weight on the camel. She sat side-saddle, an antiquated habit she'd picked up during her etiquette schooling prior to her marriage.

 _No man wants a common street whore, no matter how much he claims to love you,_  the woman had told her.  _No man wants to present a commoner to society._ Oh, indeed, she had learned to be a proper society woman—but that etiquette teacher learned a lesson of her own. One, Arabella had ensured, she wouldn't be quick to forget.

"You know you can always depend on me, Aunt Chatham," he replied respectfully. She knew he was lying, but for the time being, she could accept the mock submissiveness.

Davey had returned that morning from his spying mission, not knowing the final destination of the O'Connell clan, but with the location of their departure. With all haste, she'd prepared a small army to leave in their wake. A close encounter with Medjai tribesmen—almost too close—had quickly indicated that they'd have to remain two hours behind the family. But it didn't mean they were out of the chase. Far from it- they were as much a part of this quest as they had been when they started. Back when they were the only people searching for the scorpions.

"I hired a man to attack Libby," Davey said quickly.

"For what purpose? I ended her parents’ existence. You know I want to be the one to end her as well."

Davey laughed loudly. "I didn't hire him to kill her, you old bat. It was a test!"

"Of what?"

"Of who would rush off to save her. A test to see if her family actually gives a damn what happens to her. You want her dead, right? She's not alone anymore. She's not the easy target she used to be. It was all good and well when she was, you could have snuck in, slit her throat, and no one would give a damn. Now that she has a family, we need to know who will stand between the knife and her neck."

Arabella sighed.  _Always the exposition. Can the boy never just give me facts?_

"Obviously you're getting to who I need to worry about. Care to enlighten me David?"

"Carnahan. Ran like all hell was after him the second he heard her scream."

Arabella nodded her understanding. His words worried her more than she would ever admit. First, Jonathan Carnahan had proven he was not the ridiculous fop he was portrayed to be. Was it an act? Maybe. False bravado? Entirely a possibility. Driven by the drink? The most likely scenario. It didn't really matter- he was a real threat, as much as Rick O'Connell or the desert man.

Then there was Libby herself. The little seven-year old that gazed out the orphanage window with a death grip on the ancient box had been reluctant to leave the wooden shack she'd called home all her life. She wanted to wait for her brother. From the moment she saw them, Libby made it quite clear she didn't trust Edwin or Arabella.

 _Of course, maybe we didn't approach it quite the right way…_ Arabella mused. They had, after all, only been in the car with their newly adopted daughter ten minutes when she demanded that the little girl hand over the box. That was her first experience with a hissy fit, the first of many to come.

Arabella knew mind games. Her experiences with Davey's mother had taught her how to torture without injury, how to make a person worry with every step they took. Yet none of these seemed to work on the hardened orphan. Weeks turned into months, and then years, and what started as a mission to take the key and abandon the child on the streets turned into a game.

Libby survived years of these mind tricks and gruesome games with Arabella. Yet when Edwin, who had tried to be patient with the child, finally broke down and beat the girl in an attempt to get the box, she finally reach the breaking point and ran away

The game had changed. As a teenager, she was defenseless, dependent on Davey and then that hotel manager. But now, as she rode through the desert, Elizabeth O'Connell had true defenses: her family and herself. Because, despite what the young woman believed, Arabella knew that, when the time called for it, Libby would defend herself and those she loved. Arabella just didn't know how successful the girl would be.

It was that one unknown, that one potential variable, which scared her most.

OOO

"We're coming up on Saqqara!" Evy exclaimed, pointing out the landmarks to her son. "We'll reach the sacred road that leads into the necropolis within the hour. They used to have processions along the road of dead bulls. They were sacred, you know, and buried with as much respect as the pharaohs."

"Lovely," Alex heard his aunt chime up from ahead of them. He sped up his camel to ride side-by-side with his aunt. "You really find all this stuff fascinating Alex?"

"Um, yes?"

"We can reach Djoser's stepped pyramid by tonight. That's that black tower in the distance. If we camp there, we should be safe for the night." Evy said.

"About damn time!" Jonathan replied. "I'm worn through. Aren't you old boy?" He asked this question to Charlie, who sullenly moved ahead to ride at Libby's side.

Alex watched as his uncle and aunt shared a joint grimace at Charlie's seeming indifference to everything around him.  _First, they hate each other. Now, they think the same thoughts. Pretty soon they'll be just like… oh bloody hell, they'll be the new mum and dad. I'll kill myself. I'll bloody kill myself if I have to be around kissy-face adults all the time._

"Charlie, why don't you tell me about your life before Arabella?" Libby asked softly, slowing her camel to meet the boy's pace.

"How about we just keep riding quietly?" Charlie replied testily.

They traveled on in silence.

OOO

The cool desert nights never ceased to surprise Libby. Cairo always seemed to retain a degree of humidity, but the open plains and dunes of the desert were almost chilly. Pulling the threadbare blanket around her shoulders, she moved closer to the small campfire, savoring every moment of solitude she had with her cigarette.

"You warm enough, Libby-love?" Jonathan asked, taking a seat next to her at the fire.

"Yes I am. Drop the 'love' from the Libby, and everything will be perfect." Jonathan laughed, and she glared at him as she flicked the butt of her cigarette into the fire. "Do you think the others will be back anytime soon?"

Rick, Evy, and Ardeth had been determined to at least walk out to the coordinates of Menkahour's tomb recorded by Lepsius in his notebook and take a look around. They left just before sunset and had been gone over an hour.

"I'm sure they will be. No need to worry."

She smiled. "I'm not worried. I just—" The end of her sentence was cut off by a long yawn.

"You need your rest, love. You're desecrating your first tomb tomorrow. Always requires some bit of strength. Get to bed."

"Are you sure you don't mind staying up? You don't want company or anything?"

He made her feel safe, and that was the long and short of it. She knew that her bedroll was only about ten feet away of where he'd be sitting, but all he had to do was ask, and she'd stay right there. Safe and sound, right next to him.

Jonathan rose from where he sat, offering a hand and pulling her up. Momentarily she thought he would ask her to stay. Instead he smiled softly, a smile she hadn't seen pass his face before. It was genuine, displaying the deep wrinkles that crisscrossed his forehead and the dimples that dug deep into his cheeks.

 _You know, he's never looked handsomer,_  the little voice in Libby's head stated in a sing-song voice.

"I'm just going to have a cup of this coffee you made and wait here, Libby. Go lay down. Promise me you'll at least try and get a little rest?"

It was another side of Jonathan. It wasn't hysterical, drunk Jon that stumbled through bars stealing artifacts, nor was it callous Jon full of faux bravery and an overinflated ego. It was the sober Jonathan. He was a man, Libby imagined, that would have existed all along, had he not given in to the temptations of alcohol and a lack of principles.

She didn't hold his past against him. Libby knew, by far, that she was not a saint.

"I promise," she replied.

He nodded briefly, looking unsure. Then, in a move that surprised her even more, she felt his lips press against the top of her head. "G'night then, Libby-love."

“’Night.”

Stepping into her tent, she didn't bother to change out of her clothes from the day. She was exhausted, sore from her encounter with the mummy and riding the camel all day, and just a tad bit light headed. As she lay down in her bedroll, her mind ten thousand miles away and far from thinking about the dangers they faced the next day, she heard a disgruntled voice complaining outside.

"Who the hell taught you to make coffee old mum? This tastes like bloody bathwater."

 _That's my Jonathan,_ were the last thoughts that passed through her mind as she fell asleep.

OOO

"That was right disgusting," Charlie whispered, peering out the flap of the tent he was sharing with Alex.

"Agreed," the younger boy added. "Sodding adults can't keep their lips to themselves."

"It's just so…."

"Gross?" Alex suggested.

"Unnecessary, was what I was going for, but that too." Charlie looked at the kid sitting next to him. He wasn't really quite as annoying as he'd originally thought, and he certainly could use some backup.

"You're not so bad, Alex," Charlie added. Taking a deep breath and preparing himself for the gravity of his next words that would leave his mouth, Charlie spoke again. "Friends?"

Alex smiled. "Friends."


	22. Divide and Conquer

"Time to wake up Libby!" Alex shouted through the tent. She heard herself growl at the interruption of a finally peaceful sleep after a night of tossing and turning. Pulling the blankets away from her body, she adjusted her clothes and tied her hair back from her face.  _What I wouldn't give for a bath. How the hell does Evy look so gorgeous day after day out here in the desert?_

Libby stepped out of the tent, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. "Morning all," she attempted to say cheerfully, though she was interrupted by a long yawn. It was half a blessing that Jonathan had insisted she go to bed early, though it really hadn't helped. That infuriating man had decided to invade her dreams as well (dreams, she admitted, that had been incredibly pleasant).

Her tired greeting was met with a chorus of grunts and mumbles. Sitting down between Charlie and Evy at the campfire, she took the plate of brown, soupy, unrecognizable food that Rick offered, as well as a cup of coffee. "Any luck finding the site of the tomb?"

"A bit too much luck, I'm afraid," Evy replied with a sight, sipping her drink.

Libby did not need to state her confusion, as the look on her face clearly indicated Evelyn had lost her. "Two possible tombs, old mum. Two places where our little arachnid friend could be hiding" Jonathan explained.

"Yes, both within half a mile of Lepsius' coordinates and covered in sand," Evy continued. "They could be pyramids, tombs, any number of ancient buildings. And what's worse, we don't have any indication as to which might be Menkahour's. We'll have to excavate both to be certain we have the correct tomb."

"Damn shame we're being chased by her royal craziness and her minions," Rick muttered. "Excavating two tombs built the same king? There's boatload of prestige right there."

"How do we decide which one to dig up?" Libby asked, drinking her second cup of coffee slowly. The energy sleep had not granted her was seeping through her body with each sip.

Everyone was quiet, and it became quite clear that no one was sure how best to manage such a daunting task. Two potential pyramids, each completely covered in sand, stood between them and their goal. 

 _We could just leave and try to translate the final clue,_ Libby thought.  _But what good would it do? Arabella has enough men to uncover both temples in a few days!_

Next to her, Evy was frantically flipping through the tattered, old journal, nearly ripping through pages. "What is it, mum?" Alex asked, peering over his mother's shoulder.

"I feel like a complete dunderhead for not checking sooner, but Lepsius must have described the exterior of the tomb. If marble stone was used as the peak of the structure, or there were prayers engraved on the walls—even something as simple as the shape of the entrance to the tomb—it will help us to distinguish the two tombs from each other."

Polishing off her second cup of coffee, Libby quickly poured a third. With all the talk of work, she knew she would need her energy.

OOO

Settling into the small hole he'd dug at the top of the sand dune, Davey in no way felt safe. In fact, he was terribly concerned for his well-being, for not forty feet away from him were nearly a score of Medjai warriors, each sitting atop a camel with weapons prepared for attack.  _Good old Auntie Arabella, always finding me the best job around camp. Ascertain the enemies forces, she says. This is just fantastic._

Then again, had Arabella ever looked out for his best interests? One night stood out in his memory quite well- mostly because he'd been shot in the leg and watched his uncle get murdered by the girl he currently pursued. Barely able to crawl back to their estate, Davey has begged his aunt to help him.

Before he'd even stepped foot in any sort of hospital, he had been forced to drag Edwin's stiff corpse back to his wife.  _God forbid auntie ever gets her hands dirty._

Hesitantly, he moved his head above ground, looking left and right. The entire perimeter of Saqqara was surrounded by Medjai, bunched in groups about the same size as the one before him. There was absolutely no way he could sneak past, not to mention the two hundred man army Arabella had assembled.

"God damn," he heard himself mutter. For a moment he was afraid he'd been too loud. With bated breath, he waited to hear the shuffle of camel's hooves through the sand. No noise- he was still safe.

Settling down in his sandy safe-haven, he waited for dusk to fall. Perhaps then he could approach Saqqara.

OOO

"Aha!" Evy cried triumphantly. Her eyes felt strained from hastily reading the poorly scrawled notes. She was getting older, she could feel it in her bones. "Lepsius wrote that the tomb he found was constructed with red granite! That's on par with Old Kingdom architecture, when Menkahour was king. If one of the structures is of red granite…"

Evy was surprised to see Ardeth was nearly smiling. It was a rare occasion when the somber man found reason to do so. "Then we'd only have to excavate far enough to see the stone to make our decision. With my men surrounding the general area, Saqqara should be safe, at least for a little while."

"I think it would be best if we split up," Rick said tentatively. "I hate to say it, and I'd feel safer if we were all together, but we need to find this scorpion fast. The sooner we can eliminate one tomb from the mix, the better."

"I'll go look for one!" Libby volunteered, and then quickly covered her hand with her mouth. Evelyn was shocked (though it seemed Libby was even more so). It wasn't that she thought her sister-in-law a coward. Her actions in Rome had proven that she was capable of surviving the most adverse of situations. Evy was more surprised that Libby now seemed  _eager_ to rush into battle.

"You'll need someone that knows how to excavate with you Libby-lo...er…" Jonathan stuttered, and Evelyn saw him steal a nervous glance at Rick. "Libby. Libby needs someone to go with her. I'll go."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Evelyn cautioned. Surely, it would aid in her matchmaking scheme. But sending them traipsing off through the desert to a potentially dangerous tomb where they could meet their death?  _I want to plan a bloody wedding, not a funeral,_ the older woman thought, packing the travel journal into her bag.

"No, that may be an excellent idea," Ardeth said pensively. Evy gaped, glaring at Rick for support. Unfortunately he was deep in thought, eyes squinted as he tried to follow the Medjai's train of thought.

"Listen, there's no use in getting in a fight," Libby sighed, and Evy sensed a hint of relief in her voice that they weren't going to let her go off on her own. "If you want us to stay—"

"Bay is right," Rick interrupted. He passed Jonathan a crudely drawn map they'd made the night before. "Take Libby and Charlie with you and go northeast. The first mound is at the base of some sand dunes. Almost like it was built at the base of a valley. You should be able to navigate yourself around the site, right?"

"It's been a few years, old boy, but I think I remember my way around a shovel and pail."

Evelyn was annoyed, and it was hard for her to resist the urge to argue as she watched her husband help Jonathan, Libby, and a hesitant Charlie prepare themselves to venture to the buried building. 

_Stupidity, sheer stupidity, sending them alone like that. We're probably being followed and spreading ourselves out across the desert can only be disastrous. What if something happens to us or to them? How will we know?_

The three didn't fuss with their gear for long. Rations of food and water for the day, Jonathan's archeological equipment, and a several minor necessities were packed. Before leaving, Rick pulled Libby aside. Trying not to attract the attention of her husband or Ardeth, Evelyn shifted in the sand, straining to see what was happening or what was being said. It was to no avail. Rick helped Libby up onto a camel and they set off in a northeasterly direction.

"Remember to be back before nightfall!" Rick called.

Evelyn shook her head, as Rick took a seat at her side. "Why send them alone? Jonathan's the only one with any experience in the group. If something happens—"

"The pyramid is in a valley. If there's an attack it would be easy to miss them. We saw it ourselves last night, it's well hidden. They'll be safer there than anywhere else," Ardeth stated.

Rick nodded his agreement. "You know I'd never leave my sister in danger. And that goes for your brother as well."

Though Evelyn wanted to believe Rick was right, a churning in the pit of her stomach left her feeling incredibly uneasy.

OOO

If there was one thing that was true in this life, Jonathan knew his directional skills were poor. He had Evy and Rick there to guide him normally, and all that he had to do was spin the wheel of the car and put his foot on the gas pedal. No maps involved. Luckily, Rick's directions to the pyramid were concise and clear. The blazing sun, just starting to reach its peak in the sky, pelted the trio with heat.

Stealing glances at Libby, who rode at his left, the group was quiet. He'd watched her down three glasses of coffee that morning and was now higher strung than he'd ever seen her. Jon would almost venture to say she was giddy, judging from the particularly charming grin that spread across her face. He could understand why. With an army of Medjai surrounding their coordinates, for the first time since she'd joined the family, she could feel relatively safe and secure.

"You think we'll manage to find this scorpion thing before Arabella finds us?" Charlie asked.

Jonathan shrugged. "Hope so. Archaeology can be a bit of a tedious business. It's why I've resorted to… um... more creative methods of obtaining my antiquities."

"You know," Libby added, "Like robbing poor young women of ancient boxes their older brothers gave them."

"Precisely,"

Charlie's interest had been piqued. "Wait, wait... what did I miss?"

"Absolutely nothing," Jonathan replied, nudging the camel to go faster. He felt the animal dig into the sand, its muscles tensing as it worked its way up a steep sand dune.

"Aw c'mon old man. Libby wouldn't mind if you told." As his camel struggled to keep up with Jonathan's, it became clear that the teen was going to pester him until he got answers.

"I am in no way, shape, or form an old man, Charlie, and you'd be right to recognize it," he threatened back, lightheartedly. It felt good to joke. Vaguely, he was reminded of the American cowboys. They were fun blokes. At least, until they'd met their untimely demise at Hamunaptra.

His camel reached the peak of the sand dune. Looking down, Jonathan felt himself gasp. He signaled for Libby and Charlie to join him quickly. "Bloody hell," Charlie mumbled. "There's a tomb under that?"

The dune they stood upon appeared to be part of a giant formation, built to purposely hide the ancient building. It was in line with eight or nine other sand dunes, equal in height, which formed a perfect circle. In the center of the circle was an unnatural mound. True, it was covered in sand, but the striking geometric proportions, the almost triangular peak indicated that this was not built by nature. The sand was hiding a structure—hopefully Menkahour's tomb.

"Are we going to stare at this all day?" Libby asked. Charlie needed no more encouragement. Kicking the camel's flank, he went soaring down the hill, whooping in excitement.

"There's quite an achievement," Jonathan said quietly. "You made him show an emotion other than peeved, sarcastic, or annoyed."

"I try," Libby laughed. "It's a God-given talent."

"By the way, what did Rick give you before we left?" Jon asked. When her brother pulled her aside, he'd seen him pass her something.

"Oh! He gave me one of the scorpions. I thought it would be better if they were split between the groups. In case, you know, something happened…. " Her voice trailed away, not wishing to think about the threat that existed. "I'd actually meant to give it to you. I really don't want anything to do with this thing anymore." Reaching into her pocket, she removed the jeweled antique from her pocket.

A sudden wind picked up, rushing by Libby with such force that she nearly fell off her mount. Sand was being picked up, blowing in circles, making it difficult to see. A second gust of wind came from the opposite direction, just as strong as the first. Jumping down from the camel, Jonathan pulled Libby with him.

"What the hell is this, Jon?"

"Sandstorm. I've never seen one come up this strong so fast." Swirls of sand forced them to stop speaking. Visibility was entirely distorted, as walls of the dry, gritty earth moved in every direction. Jonathan pulled her closer to him, fearful of losing her in the storm. They huddled together, every gust of wind seeming as if it would be the final straw, sweeping them up into the air and into the beyond. Five minutes passed, ten, fifteen...

And as suddenly as the storm started, it stopped. The winds ceased, and the sand suspended in the air dropped to the ground with a gentle whoosh.

"You alright love?" he asked, pulling out his flask. Taking two quick swigs, he passed it to Libby, who adamantly refused it.

"I'm fine." She stepped back looking him over. "We're fine. Where's Charlie?"

Turning to move in the direction Charlie had rode, Libby let out an audible gasp. "Holy shit."

"What is-?" The site Jonathan saw left him in awe.

Sparkling red granite ruins greeted them as they turned. Half-decimated and starting to collapse, there seemed to be blocks of stone missing from the exterior. The general shape, however, had been maintained, and the entrance was visible even from their higher elevation. Menkahour's tomb had been revealed in the sand storm.

"This is just too damned convenient," Jonathan muttered, turning the scorpions over in his hands.

"You don't think that the scorpion caused…"

"Would you two lovebirds stop staring at each other, and get down here?" Charlie screamed from the base of the dune, waving his arms wildly. "There's a tomb to explore down here!"

Grinning at Libby, he grabbed her hand and ran wildly towards Charlie.

OOO

"Do you think they're having any more luck than we're having?" Rick asked Ardeth, digging down into the sand. Evy was lost in her own little world with Alex, driven and determined to unearth the temple.

"Who, Jonathan and Libby?" he asked. "I doubt it. At the rate Alex and Evy are digging, we'll be over at the other site by the afternoon, offering to help them!"


	23. The Proof and The Pedestal

"I thought you said archaeology was tedious? That was bloody brilliant!" Charlie commented excitedly as Libby and Jonathan joined him at the base of the sand dune.

"Oh yes, mysterious sandstorms are an everyday thing. Did I fail to mention that?" Jonathan quipped back with a roll of the eyes, tipping his flask back as he downed more of whatever cheap liquor Rick had managed to scrounge up for him.

Charlie chose to ignore the sarcasm that dripped from the older man's voice. Finally, there was a reason to be excited. The mummy attack yesterday morning had left him shaken, and he had secretly been hoping this whole trip was a hallucination as he lay unconscious in the ally where Davey had thrown him out the window. Unfortunately, this mission to save his arse- and he considered it a mission of the utmost importance- was real. But now, with the revelation of the decrepit tomb with wind-smoothed stones, freedom from this half-crazed, risk taking family, from Davey and Arabella, was close.

Not to mention that the tomb intrigued him. But only the slightest bit. And never would Charlie Sterling admit that out loud.

"Would you two idiots calm down? And Jonathan, for God's sake, stop drinking. I'm not dragging your ass halfway back across the desert, seeing as how we need to go get Rick and the others." Libby sighed.

"Why the hell would we go get them?" Charlie asked. "We're here, let's do this."

"He's got a point Libby-love," Jonathan stated, continuing to gulp from the flask. For a second, it crossed Charlie’s mind that the only person who had any archaeological experience was halfway to oblivion. Any other time it would concern him more, but that inkling of excitement was growing, overcoming his healthy sense of self-preservation.

"Who knows what'll happen if we leave this tomb alone. Sure, Ardeth's men are standing guard, but Davey's sneaky. Best that the three of us just explore on our own."

Charlie saw right through Jonathan's white lie. _He wants a little slice of glory. Find the scorpion, impress the girl. You've got it bad, old pal._

It was evident that Libby didn't entirely believe Jonathan's motives either. "Jon, what do we have to prove? The scorpion's been sitting here for a millennium, it can wait twenty minutes. Besides, the way you're behaving-" She paused here to indicate the flask in his hand. "-you'll be lucky if you can walk from here to the entrance. If you want, take Charlie with you, but I'm getting the others. This place looks on the verge of collapse, and if we all die in here, what good is that going to do?"

"Aww Libby-love, don't get angry," Jonathan groveled. Charlie rolled his eyes.

 _Can we just go get the damn scorpion? Some of us would like to move on with our lives and be done with you people._  Heaving his rucksack back onto his shoulder, Charlie began walking towards the pyramid.

"Jonathan, I'm done taking stupid risks for these damn scorpions. And I'm not watching anyone else put themselves at risk, especially you. So can we please just go get Rick?"

Standing beneath the entrance, the dark tomb beckoned Charlie. The stale air escaping into the atmosphere for the first time in eons reeked of an unknown, pungent stench. Gun drawn, he approached tentatively.

"If you don't want to go in the tomb, that's fine. Rick and the others will be here in a few hours. Someone ought to stand guard anyway."

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Libby half shouted. "Arabella is coming. We all need to stay together!"

Charlie didn't hear Jonathan's response. Mentally prepared, he stepped slowly into the tomb.

"BLOODY HELL! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND!" he suddenly heard Jonathan shout behind him. Above him, the clang of metal hitting the top of the entry way, then sliding across the floor of the tomb resonated deep into the dark shaft. Surprised he jumped back, just in time to watch a clear liquid pour out of a well-crafted ceiling trap.

Charlie barely heard Libby and Jonathan jog to his side over the sound of his pounding heart and gasps for air.  _I nearly died. What the fuck was I thinking? Survival, Charlie. The goal is to survive, not to play the hero. Idiots like Carnahan play the hero. People like you survive._

"I didn't say to throw all precaution to the wind, old boy," Jonathan sighed, looking incredibly relieved. "First trap in a tomb is always at the entrance. It's how they get rid of the novice treasure hunters. My guess is hydrochloric acid, though I can't be sure."

Charlie didn't care whether it was an acid shower or tea shower. What he knew was that playing explorer was likely to lead to his death. And death had never been in Charlie Sterling's plans.

"You know what?" he said quickly. "Why don't I go and find the others? You two have a nice little adventure." Turning around, he quickly mounted a camel, and was off into the desert before they could stop him.

OOO

Although she hadn't anticipated doing any excavation work during her time in Egypt, Evy would be remiss if she didn't admit it brought her a certain joy. It was familiar, comforting. Not to mention, but it was a bit of a relief to have a place for Alex to dig outside of her rose garden (though, if she was confessing, she was guilty as charged of the same crime).

"Chieftain Bay!" The voice broke the silence that had enveloped the toiling family.

From his spot next to Rick, Ardeth stood, his robes sweeping the sand as he briskly walked towards the rider. Pausing from her work, Evy watched as the two conversed. Hushed tones soon became raised voices. After four or five indiscernible exchanges in Arabic, the rider swiftly turned, galloping away at top speed.

"Ardeth, what is it?" Evy asked softly.

He sighed. "Arabella's men have attacked from the east. My men from the eastern and southern perimeter are fighting her off now. The west and north are still guarded, but it's entirely possible that smaller groups could break through and attack."

"I told you!" Evy shouted, fear sweeping over her as she stalked toward Rick. It took a lot to shake her emotions, but she'd been on pins and needles since the family had split up. "I told you not to send them out there alone, but you insisted it would be fine!"

Rick moved to her side, pulling her into a comforting hug. "Evy, I promise you they will be ok."

"Yes, there's no need to worry," Ardeth agreed. "I've commanded that some of my men go to the other dig site to watch over them. They will not be left to fend for themselves."

Evy felt some of her worry leave her, yet still she could not be fully at ease. She did the only thing she knew she could do to calm herself. She kept digging, moving sand away from the tomb ounce by ounce.

OOO

Distractions, diversions- all in a day's work for Arabella. Davey knew the bitch served a purpose. She was so desperate to obtain the scorpions that even the most ridiculous strategy- a full frontal assault on an army of Medjai- was approved without a moment’s thought. Her mind was wearing down, less keen then it was at the start of this adventure, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Now well past the guards with a troop of twelve men, Davey hoped that he would soon stumble upon the O'Connell clan. The desert weather did not suit him in the slightest. It was too hot, too bright. Men liked him preferred the anonymity of the dark.

"Boss, what's that?" one of the men asked quietly, pointing at a lone moving object in the distance. Though the sun made it impossible to tell with certainty, he knew that it was not one of his men, nor one of Arabella's.

"Surround him. He's alone. He can't defend himself against twelve."

Without question, the men moved stealthily into a circle. The lone camel rider was clearly not paying enough attention to his surroundings- Davey's men were not acknowledged once as they took their positions.

Davey checked quickly that his gun was loaded. Six bullets, one reserved for each of the Carnahan-O'Connell clan.

He was grateful that the soft sand dampened the sound of his footsteps. By the time he'd reached the camel's side and recognized the lone rider as Charlie, the boy had still not lifted his head. Oh, he was tempted to shoot right then and there, but he couldn't risk angering Arabella. She needed the boy- and by all accounts, so did he.

If Arabella believed she was unstoppable, if she believed that by harboring Seth's spirit within Charlie's body she would gain total control and become the master of fate, then Davey would win. Because, even though he'd read to her word-for-word from the tablet, Arabella seemingly had ignored the most important phrase. Instilling Seth's soul into a mortal would not, could not make the host invincible. By biding his time, preparing, he stood only to gain.

"Well there, chum, it's been a while," he said loudly, taking pleasure in watching the younger man nearly fall off the camel.

With an agility Davey hadn't expected, Charlie drew is gun. Unfortunately, Davey was quicker, signaling for his men to approach the boy. "Thirteen on one isn't the best of odds Charlie, but I suppose you know that already." He plucked the gun out of the boy's hand.

"You'd know something about odds, now wouldn't you, Dave?" Charlie replied, as surly as ever.

"That's no way to start a reunion, now is it? Get walking, kiddo. I've been longing to see my good friend Libby."

OOO

"You're really serious, aren't you? You think we should honestly go find this scorpion by ourselves?" Libby asked incredulously, still staring into the dark tomb.

"Oh ye of little faith," Jonathan sighed. "Yes, I think we should. I would like nothing more than to finally go and open my night club, and be done with this god forsaken country once and for all. Can't do that until we destroy the scorpions. All of them. And, as you so pleasantly reminded me, we've already nearly died half a dozen times. Why don't we go for lucky number seven, shall we?"

Stepping into the tomb, he glanced up to ensure there were no more acid traps. On the ground, two small pieces of corroded metal, all that remained of his precious flask, lay on the ground, bouncing a sliver of sunlight into the darkened corridor. Cautiously, he proceeded deeper into the hallway.

Of course, there were more reasons than a quick end to this adventure that he chose to enter the pyramid without Rick, Ardeth, and the machine guns that ultimately accompanied the two. But ulterior motives had always been a specialty of his. If he could only prove himself to Libby, give final evidence that he was not a drunk that resorted to stealing to make his greatest discoveries. She had to see, had to know, that there was more to him. Hell,  _he_ needed to know whether there was more to him.

_Besides, this whole tomb-exploring, save the world thing worked for Rick and Evy..._

"Are you coming?" he asked when he turned to see Libby standing in the entry way. "Just trust me, Libby-love."

"You already asked me to do that once," she replied.

 _The boat to Italy,_  he thought, his mind sneaking back to that glorious moment in the utility closet. "I didn't let you die then, did I? I promise you will get out of this tomb alive." He held out a hand to her.

With a sigh and an eye roll, she stepped into the tomb, grabbing his hand to help herself over the puddle of acid. "I hope you realize I'm holding you to that promise."

From his pack, he removed a gun, handing it to her. "Jonathan you know I can't…"

"If you shoot anything in here, you can take some comfort in the fact that it's already been dead for years."

They maneuvered slowly down the hallway, Libby keeping a gentle hold on Jonathan's bag. He was taking great care to examine every place he put his foot down, making sure she stepped exactly in the same spots he did. This tomb was well protected- the acid was proof of that- and for good reason. Light was dim the farther they moved from the entrance. Evidence of the small desert animals and spiders that inhabited the tomb over the ages lined the corridor, the silky cobwebs and yellowed skeletons impossible to avoid as they traversed.

As the last rays of light faded, Jonathan feared they would have to turn around and wait for the others to arrive. He knew for a fact that Evy's bag contained a lantern that they could use.

"Hey, Jon! I solved our light problem!" Libby exclaimed excitedly. Had he not been deep in thought, he would have noticed an aged torch protruding from the wall.

The feeling that something was amiss, much like he felt when the pyramid was first revealed, swept over him.  _Something's not right about that…_

"Libby no!" he shouted, but she'd already grabbed the torch.

"Wha-" she was about to ask, but was cut off when Jonathan pulled her by the collar of her shirt from where she'd been standing. Seconds later an arrow flew by. Then another, closer to where they stood. The ground beneath them began to rumble, shaking forward and back.

Shoving her in front of him, he shouted, "Run!" Without hesitation, she followed his command, jerkily scampering across the floor. At his back, he could feel the soft breeze that each arrow produced as it crossed the hallway just barely missing him.

He was certain the pyramid was coming down, certain they would be crushed or impaled, or an atrocious combination of the two. Yet his own safety never crossed his mind.

_Bloody hell, I promised her._

Libby stopped moving suddenly, promptly causing Jonathan to fall over her. As he prepared to ask why, he realized the ground had stopped moving. Everything in the tomb was still. His head fell to her shoulder, relief flooding him that they'd escaped again.

"You alright Libby-love?"

"I will be once the person on top of me allows me to breathe again." Quickly, he sat up, helping her to right herself in the process. With a smile, she revealed that she still held the torch. "Shall we keep moving?"

"You mean you don't want to go wait for Rick?" he asked.

"Seven near-death experiences, Jon. Didn't you call it lucky seven? I think that means we should be golden for a while."

Lighting the torch, he once again took the lead, prepared for whatever lay ahead.

OOO

Five o'clock, and Libby, Jonathan, and Charlie had yet to return. Rick rarely had a problem admitting to Evy when he was wrong, but in this situation, he really didn't want to. He knew she wouldn't answer back with the typical told-you-so response. The situation really didn't allow for it. But to admit that he was wrong meant acknowledging that the other three were in some sort of danger.

As Ardeth tended the fire and Evy threw together a simple meal, five thirty passed, then six. No one mentioned that the other three were still missing, and Rick hoped and prayed that at any moment they would appear over the horizon.

At a quarter of seven he could wait no longer. "We're going to find them," he announced softly.

Alex looked up from his book, Evy from her food. "Rick, you don't think…"

He attempted a half-hearted smile. "I hope not. I sure as hell hope not."

"I will call some of my men. That way you and Alex can stay here. They will stand guard," Ardeth offered.

Rick saw Evy ready to protest.  _That's my girl_ , he thought proudly. Still, he caught her eyes, and attempted to convey his strong wish that she stay behind with their son. With a small frown, she acquiesced.

 _Yep, I'll be paying for this one for a while..._ By seven-fifteen, Ardeth's men had arrived. The two men rode toward the second pyramid, Rick praying silently that his sister and Jonathan would be standing next to a still-buried tomb arguing.

OOO

"They're all down there?" Davey asked, poking his gun into Charlie's back.

"Good lord, how many times do I have to tell you? The whole bloody family is down there!" he shouted, promptly receiving a sharp prod in the back.

"What were you doing alone in the desert?" Davey responded. Clearly, he was suspicious. "You jumping ship?"

"So what if I am? I ain't loyal to anyone." Charlie jaw clenched.

He hoped he had made the right choice bringing Davey to Jonathan and Libby. When Davey found him in the desert, he had been just about ready to tell him anything, including the whereabouts of both halves of the family. Survival was imperative. _It is my ass on the line, after all._

What had stopped him was the kid. Sure Rick was a bit of a bastard, and the Medjai was rough on him. But Evy had been kind and Alex was just a kid. One who, if he understood the story right, had already nearly lost his life once. Besides, he was the closest thing he'd ever had to a friend, and that counted for something.

That left Jon and Libby. One more clueless than the other, Charlie led Davey to them, leaving them in fate's hands. Libby had experienced Arabella and Davey before- she could handle it. And Jonathan, for all his stupidity, was stronger than he led on. They would have a plan, they would find an escape.

 _And they won't leave me behind,_  Charlie added silently.

"Greg, Tom, you say out here with the kid. The rest of you follow me. We're taking that scorpion tonight. It's time to end this."

Charlie watched as Davey led the way into the tomb.

OOO

"How long have we been walking?" Libby asked, examining the wall closely before she leaned back. The incident with the torch had truly taught her a lesson in pyramid exploring caution.

"An hour, maybe two. Can't believe how bloody big this tomb is. It's all one corridor, no branching, nothing. You sure you can keep walking?"

She smiled. "Thanks, but at this point, what else can we do? Who knows how long this torch will last. Let's keep going." She stood, this time leading the way.

Jonathan was close behind her, and every nerve in her body felt it. His hand rested lightly on her waist, ready at any moment to stop her should he sight a trap that she missed.

The silence and the darkness were beginning to bother her, as well as a question she'd been mulling since they'd entered the pyramid. "Jon," she began. "Why'd you throw your flask into the acid?"

He let out a low laugh. "Well, I could have let Charlie walk into it, but I didn't think you'd appreciate that."

She laughed lightly. "Jon, come on…"

"I can live without it you know," he said, a tone that conveyed all seriousness. "I don't need it to function."

"You certainly don't act like it."

He groaned in frustration. "You never had a comfort item when you were a kid. Like a blanket or food or anything?"

She felt the frown spreading over her face, stopping in her tracks. She hated talking about her childhood. "No, I didn't. I was with Arabella. There was no comfort. I lived in fear for years because the woman had it out for me."

The arm that rested on her waist moved to encircle her completely and she felt herself pulled back into Jonathan's chest. His lips were near her ear, she could feel his breath brushing over her skin. Light from the torch he held danced across the ground, casting oddly shaped shadows on the wall, the floor.  _You're a pretty nice comfort item,_  she mused, though she would never say the words aloud.

"I didn't really make it much easier for you, now, did I?"

She turned to face him, so close that their noses brushed. "I survived, didn't I?" She smiled wide. "Let's find this scorpion."

Grabbing her hand tightly, he nearly pulled her through the corridor. They moved swiftly now, turning endless corners, as the path dipped downward. Deeper into the depths of the tomb, further below the ground they walked. Finally they entered a small chamber.

Holding the torch high, Jonathan allowed the light to fill the room. It was empty, save for the cobwebs and dust that had built up over time.

Libby moved into the center of the room. "We came here for nothing? There's nothing here!"

"It's never nothing," Jonathan said softly, walking the perimeter of the room. "There has to be something else here." As he took the next step, Libby heard a small 'click' from under his foot.

"Jonathan, what did you just step-" Beneath her, the floor started shaking, and then gave way, sending her deep into a pit.

The floor beneath her was not as hard as she anticipated. It was sand, piled high, providing a soft cushion.  _I'm not dead. No broken bones. Not so bad._

"Thanks a million Jon!" she called up.

"Good lord, are you alright Libby-love?"

Squinting in the dark, she attempted to regain her bearings. In the center of the room stood a small torch. "I'm alright Jon. Toss me down the lighter."

A second later, she felt the small object hit the top of her head. "Thanks, but could you attempt not causing me further bodily damage?"

A mournful "sorry" was the only response she received. Tottering on shaky legs to the torch, she lit the light. The room was sparsely decorated with paintings. To her left, the golden figure of a bull guarded the tomb. The sarcophagus, a long stone container, was detailed in its picture of Menkahour, and she could imagine him to be a strong, solid leader.

And then the light bounced off her prize. On a pedestal directly across from the sarcophagus sat the scorpion, staring directly at her.

"Jon!" She didn't even realize she was shouting, she was excited, relieved, a flood of emotions. "JON! I HAVE IT!"

OOO

Above ground, next to the hole where Libby had fallen, a very relieved Jonathan sank back onto the floor, taking deep breathes. She was alive, she was unhurt, and he was in love.

Oh and she found the scorpion- always a plus.

"Are you serious?" he shouted back.

"YES! I haven't grabbed it yet, but I'm looking at it." Her voice rose in excitement.

"You, love, are a bloody miracle worker," he shouted back down. Turning to his bag, he went to grab a rope to pull her up.

Instead he faced down the barrel of a gun.

"She is a little miracle worker, isn't she, Carnahan?" Davey asked.


	24. When Victory Meant All

"Now then Carnahan, if you'd prefer not to have a bullet lodged in your skull this evening, you're not going to let Libby know I'm here. Just play along, act like everything is normal, and maybe we can all come out of this with a happy ending," Davey commanded.

 _Happy, of course, depends on how you look at it. I get the scorpion, he gets to die with Libby. At least one-third of us end up happy,_  he thought.  _Can't please everyone in this life._

Practically preening, Davey couldn't help but muse upon the situation. It was quasi-déjà vu. He had been there that humid Cairo night, as had Libby. Even Jonathan had played a part, though he hadn’t realized his role in the drama until years later.

Last time, though, Davey had been the one desperate to escape, leaving Libby upstairs in the abandoned building after she cried herself to sleep over her precious "lucky box." He didn't know what she was all upset about, and frankly he didn't care. The only one with a reason to cry was him- he'd  _sworn_ to Edwin that he'd have the box that night. Climbing down dark staircases, avoiding the rotted wooden steps that he knew creaked, he found his uncle waiting for him, patient as ever, in the old foyer.

They'd conversed softly at first, but once he revealed the box was gone, Edwin couldn't control his temper. He'd screamed and ranted and raved, blaming all of their collective failures on Davey. It was in that moment that the uncle he knew as a child was gone, replaced by the man Arabella had molded to her purpose. The last remnant of family had disappeared, leaving him essentially an orphan. So he shouted back, defending himself.

When Libby emerged from the bottom of the stairs, he sure as hell didn't expect her to pull a gun. Why would he, when the girl had spent the last five years cowering in his shadow? Thank God her aim was poor. He'd lived through that night.

Unfortunately for Jonathan and Libby, he did not anticipate them having the same such luck today.

"Jon! Is everything alright up there?" the woman called up.

"Just peachy, Libby-love," Jonathan responded, glancing over his shoulder at his captor. Davey gave smirked gloriously.

Successes were few and far between in his life. They had been stolen from him by Arabella when his mother was taken away. They were stolen by Jonathan when he took the box. Stolen when Libby survived the hotel fire, when Libby found the scorpion. 

_It all comes back to Miss Libby, now doesn't it?_

Retribution was going to be sweet. In his head, the sequence of events was prepared. Kill Libby and Jonathan. Have Arabella lead him to Hamunaptra, where he would finally get rid of her and the boy. He alone would harness the power of Seth. From there it wouldn’t be long until he finally had power. For once, he would control his life. He would rescue his mother from that asylum- the doctors wouldn't laugh at his pleas. No one would laugh again.

Victory was not going to be stolen from him this time.

"Alright," Libby called up confidently. "I'm going to look at the pedestal and make sure it's not rigged."

Jonathan bit his lip, hesitating before he replied. "Be careful love."

"So where's the rest of the family?" Davey asked quietly, twirling his gun around. He glanced back over his shoulder to ensure that his men still stood guard. Two had entered the main room of the tomb with him, the rest spaced at regular intervals throughout the winding hallway. There was no way things could go wrong - no one could enter and no one would exit alive without his approval.

Jonathan's face bore an incredulous look following the question about his family. "I know my reputation precedes me, but do you really think I'd be so stupid as to tell you where my family is?"

"I could just shoot you," Davey offered.

"And Libby would know you are here. Do you really want to risk that?"

_The man's got balls, there's no denying that. A nice little show of bravado._

"Are they down there with Libby?" he questioned.

"They're in hiding, you son of a bitch. That family's been through more than you or I will ever understand. For God's sake, let them have a little bit of peace. You hate us? You have a problem? You take it out on me, not on them."

Davey felt his stomach churning in anger, losing control and punching Jonathan hard in the face. They weren't there. The edge in Carnahan's voice, the desperation to protect his own, had betrayed only righteous honesty. The red-headed brat had lied.

"Son of a bitch, I'm gonna kill that little bastard!" he swore, kicking up dust. "God damn you, Charlie Sterling!"

"What did he do now?" Jonathan asked.

Davey snorted indignantly.  _Might as well play it up a bit. If I convince them that Charlie betrayed them, they won't work as hard to save him. Makes it much easier to get Arabella her sacrificial lamb._

"Not that it matters much to you, but the kid said your whole family was down here. He was quite willing to give up your location. All we had to do was promise him safe passage. He squealed and was on his way. See, the problem with you, Carnahan, is that you're too trusting. You should have realized that he was only out to save his own ass."

Anger- no rage- passed over Jonathan's face. But what did it matter, really? He was a dead man. Did it matter if he died believing Charlie betrayed him or not?

Either way, Davey was finally in line to win.

OOO

 _That little bastard. I'll strangle him,_  Jonathan thought.  _What the hell was he thinking? What the hell were_ we _thinking, letting him join us? Callous, foul mouthed little—_

"Jonathan!" Libby's blissfully oblivious voice interrupted his thoughts, instantly gaining his full attention. "It looks safe, I'm gonna grab the scorpion."

"Answer her," Davey said softly, prodding him roughly with the gun. Never had Jonathan felt intimidated by Arabella's little lapdog until this moment. No longer was he the lackey. He was the commander, the leader of the attack. More vicious than Jon had ever seen him, he now understood why Libby had been so willing to shoot the man.

 _You should have strangled this idiot when you had a chance,_  he mused, remembering when he allowed the man to slip through his fingers in Italy.

"I said to answer her!" Davey hissed, hitting him with the butt of the gun.

"You need to let me drop the rope down to her," Jonathan snapped back. Taking the length of rope from his bag, he dropped it down to her, tightly wrapping the opposite end around his hands. "I tossed the rope down. You see it love?" he called down.

"Yeah I see it!"

He sighed, trying to think of the best way to obtain the scorpion and bring her up. He still wasn't entirely convinced that the pedestal the golden insect sat upon was free from ancient traps.

"Ok Libs, we're not taking any risks here. You grab the scorpion and then high-tail it to the rope. Understand?" The voice that left his mouth was more firm and confident than he'd expected.

"You don't think it's a trap, do you?" she called back up, the slightest quiver in her voice revealing her nerves.

"We're just being careful. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

A legitimate snort escaped Davey, breaking his concentration. "She really buys that bullshit? I thought she had  _some_ brains."

Jonathan ignored him, focusing on Libby's shadow in the torchlight. Behind him he heard Davey mumbling incoherently, obviously not enthused by the fact that he was not affected by his taunting. In the dim light, he saw Libby's arms lift up and grab an object, he assumed the scorpion.

"Got it!" a victorious cry emerged. A tug on the rope indicated she was ready to be pulled up.

Deep within the tomb, he heard a soft rumble, urging him on, pulling the rope as quickly as he could.  _How am I going to explain all this to her? She's going to murder me—_

"Uh Jon, could you pull a little bit faster?" he heard her ask frantically, tugging on the rope. The rumbling was still in the background, but another sound had been added. A light, natural buzzing sound- one more suited for the woods or a field than for a pyramid.

"Jonathan, something's filling the chamber!"

"Sand?" he asked hopefully, with a gulp. He could deal with sand. In reality, the sound was an unwelcome, all too familiar one: scarabs.

"No, it sounds like bugs!" She let out a yelp. "Yes, they're bugs, they're on the walls. Pull me up, Jon, quick! They're crawling on me!"

He felt her squirming, trying to get the bugs off. She was screeching, panicking, desperately trying to climb the rope. He yanked harder, ignoring the burning sensation on his hands.

"Jon, THERE IS SOMETHING UNDER MY SKIN!" he heard her scream. He nearly dropped her back down into the pit. Beads of sweat dripped down his face, the exertion taking a toll and the worry growing rapidly. His heart had stopped.

"What's wrong hero?" Davey asked condescendingly. "Scarabs throw a bit of a kink in the plans?"

"You did this?" he couldn't help but ask, as he lugged the last few feet of rope upwards.

"If your Medjai pals had been a bit more observant, maybe you would have had the upper hand. That tablet came in quite handy, besides the obvious way to resurrect Seth with half the scorpions. I control the mummies, the scarabs. I have complete control now, Carnahan. It's a glorious feeling, you know. I'm unstoppable! Bloody invincible!"

Libby's hand appeared over the side of the pit. Davey was ranting egomaniacally now, but that could be ignored. "I've got you love!" She scampered over the edge, collapsing on the ground.

Grabbing her back, her face contorted in agony and she squirmed on the ground. "Get it out! It hurts!"

"Give me a knife," Jonathan demanded of Davey.

"What the hell? Why is he heeeere!" She screamed again. Beneath her shirt, the familiar bulge of the scarab appeared, racing along her lower back.

"I want the scorpion first!" Davey demanded, his eyes crazed with greed. "I want my damned prize! You're not stealing this victory from me, Carnahan."

The rumbling grew louder, as did Libby's screams of agony. Without hesitating, Jonathan took the scorpion from Libby's pocket. Beneath the treasure, he felt something familiar. Libby still had her gun. Carefully, he removed the gun as well. 

 _I knew being a pickpocket would be a useful habit,_  he mused as he sneakily slipped the gun into his other hand.

"We hand off on three," Jonathan said, not trusting Davey to uphold his end of the bargain.

"Fine. I count," Davey replied. "One… two…thr-"

The force of the recoil surprised Jonathan. It rarely, if ever, affected him. But as the smoke from the gun cleared, he saw he'd done the job.

Davey lay sprawled on the floor of the tomb, face up, frozen in a final expression of awe and anger. One last chance at victory, stolen. Blood seeped quickly from the hole in his abdomen, a small pool forming around him. The two guards came rushing into the room.

"Damn it," Jonathan muttered, knowing that Libby needed help. The screams had stopped, trailing off to pitiful whimpers.

Grabbing the knife off the ground, he shot twice, killing both guards. Silently congratulating himself for miraculously obtaining the gift of good aim, he rushed to Libby's side. "What are you doing with that knife?" he heard her moan.

"This happened to me before. I have to cut it out." He felt the panic raising in his voice. The damned insect had been in her too long.

"Fine, whatever! Just get it out of me!"

"Take off your shirt!" he shouted.

"Not 'til we're married!" she shouted back, not thinking coherently.

"What?!" It caught him entirely off guard.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Jon pushed Libby down, and lifted her shirt up. The scarab was moving quickly along her spine. Any hesitation and he would be too late. Quickly, he cut a small gash in her skin, popping the tiny insect out.

Pulling her shirt down, she looked almost self-conscious as she took his hand. Easily, he helped her stand up and she looked around the room. Her eyes froze on Davey’s corpse. "Oh my God… you killed him?"

"Libby-love we need to get out of here," he replied, moving away from her to take Davey's guns, as well as the guards. "Grab the scorpion."

Silently, still half in shock, she picked up the scorpion, turning it over in her shaking hands. "I can't believe you killed him," she said softly, moving closer to him.

Didn't she get it? How could he have let Davey live, when he threatened her, made her life a living hell all these years? He didn't care about saving the world. For all he knew, the world could go to hell in a handbasket, and he wouldn't give a damn. All he wanted was to get her home safely, in one piece, and treat her like the next bloody Queen of England.

Apparently, she understood better than he realized.

Libby moved closer to him, her face contemplative. Running her hands over his chest, she grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a long, satisfying kiss.

And though the roar coming from the depths of the ancient pyramid should have been a clear sign to run like all hell, Jonathan could not deny that, for far too long, he'd been waiting for this. He pulled Libby closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissed her back with all the pent-up desire he'd been holding back since they met.

The kiss ended, as all eventually do, when one of the overhead stones dropped behind him, causing them both to jump. The floor was now shaking, the stability of the entire chamber compromised. "We really need to go now, don't we?" she asked.

"Yes we do," he replied, kissing her forehead briefly. Handing her one of the guns, he prepared to lead the way out.

Then blackness engulfed him.

OOO

As they approached the largest sand dune, Ardeth Bay felt his heart racing. Over the desert mountains, he could see very clearly the precipice of the pyramid.

"That wasn't there yesterday, right?" Rick asked quietly. Ardeth ignored the obvious rhetorical question, urging his camel to move faster up the dune. The American was beside him, keeping pace easily with his seasoned companion.

This was not like his previous experiences with the O'Connell family. The undead were a predictable, though deadly, danger. There was a legend, a story, a scroll that would reveal their motivations, their deeds and desires. The resurrection of Seth, if achieved would qualify. But living, breathing people were unpredictable; their motives hidden. Ardeth hated not being able to strategize, to have some attainable plan.

"God damn, Bay. Look down there," Rick mumbled. His stomach dropped.

The entrance to the pyramid was surrounded. Legions, it seemed, waited at the entrance aimlessly. Arabella was easily recognizable, wearing a long skirt and traveling coat. She carried a rifle, wandering through the men. Lying on the ground, further away from the army, was young Charlie, his red hair splayed around him.

"Do you see Jon and Libby?" Ardeth asked quietly.

"No, I do not. We must hope for the best, that they are safe and have escaped. Do you think the boy is dead?"

Rick shook his head. "I don't see blood. I think he's just knocked out." He paused. "What's the plan, old friend?"

Ardeth quickly estimated the numbers they were against. "If it were mummies I'd say attack. But this situation? I will stay here and watch for the others. You must get my men. If we can, we will attack here."

Settling in, he felt Rick clasp his back. They shook hands briefly. As the older man sped down the dune, Ardeth settled in, carefully concealing his location from any wandering eyes amidst the enemy.

OOO

 _Well, I didn't think kissing him would distract him that much!_ Libby reproached herself as she attempted to heave Jonathan onto her shoulder. At this point, she would take any feeble joke her mind came up with- their situation was dire, that was for sure. That stone from the pyramid just  _had_ to fall the moment he stepped out of her embrace, knocking him out. Now she had to carry him out before the whole damn building caved in. Surely the gods were against her. It was the only explanation.

She took two steps towards the door and had to stop. "Jonathan dearest," she said quietly to his still body. "You could stand to lose some weight."

Again, she heaved him up, taking three more steps. There was no way they'd make it out in time. The floor was crumbling into the pit, where the scarabs waited hungrily – Dave’s now missing corpse not enough to sate their hunger. She had to get him out. One experience with scarabs had truly been enough to last a lifetime.

Carrying him was out of the question. Lifting him by the arms, she began dragging him towards the corridor. "Boss?" she heard someone ask from the doorway. Much to her chagrin, in a reaction that was astonishingly natural, she pulled her gun on the speaker.

"Drop your weapons or I'll shoot," she commanded, her voice more powerful than ever before.

"Miss Grayson?" The young man entered the room, familiar hazel eyes staring back at her.

"Oh my God, Kaysar? I thought you were back in Cairo recovering. Help me with Jonathan!"

"I've been working with the Medjai. Chieftain Bay asked me to watch Davey, that's how I ended up here. I killed the rest of the guards, but Arabella is waiting outside," Kaysar replied as he easily lifted Jon off the ground, slinging one of his limp arms around his neck. Libby took the other, and they were quickly off and running through the hallway.

It felt like an earthquake. Every movement of the unstable ground beneath her feet rattled her, nearly sending her off her balance. Behind her, Libby was certain the corridor was about to crash down around them, sealing them inside for all eternity. "We need to go faster!"

She heard Jonathan groan. As Kaysar took longer steps, she agilely followed slightly behind him, avoiding stones and breaks in the floor, not to mention the traps they had set off on their way into the pyramid earlier in the day.

"We're almost there, Libby!" Kaysar said a short while later. The distance did not feel as long as it had that afternoon.

Kaysar came to a halt. "Why are you stopping?" Libby asked, frantically.

"You need to pretend I captured you. I can't blow my cover, and it'll be safer for you if you don't come out waving a gun."

She trusted Kaysar inherently. Through all her problems running the Grayson-Stratford in Cairo, he had stood by her side, defended the fact that she was a woman running a hotel. Removing the gun from her pocket, she placed it in his hand. "If you get Jon near enough the entrance, I can carry him out. Hold the gun on me. I'll work up some tears. Convincing enough?"

"It would work on me," he replied with a smile.

Closer, and closer they moved toward the entrance, and with each step, Libby contemplated running back into the tomb. To give herself up to Arabella, whom she knew wanted her dead? It was insanity. She wanted to live, but not on that bitch's terms.

Yet she wouldn't kill herself. For once in her life, the future held hope. It was a future she wanted, and damn it all, she was going to have it.

Ahead, she could see the light shining into the tomb. "Take Jonathan," Kaysar mumbled.

Shouldering him once more, she moved toward the exit. "Libby," she heard Kaysar say behind her. "I'm meeting with your family tonight. We  _will_ find a way to get you out. I promise. And please don't hold what I say next against me."

She nodded, and began walking. The gun prodded her in the back several times. "Move faster you stupid cow, before we all get killed in here!" Kaysar shouted.

Stepping into the sunlight, she dropped Jonathan onto the ground, wanting to fall herself. The sun's rays were brighter than she anticipated, and she found herself squinting. The pyramid was slowly crumbling deeper into the ground, the sand rising above them. Moving farther away, she protectively scrambled to cover Jonathan, lest he get hit by any other flying debris. Sand was flying, swirling. The chaotic howls that emerged from the ancient structure as it disappeared filled the air.

Then, as mysteriously as it had appeared, the dust settled and Menkahour's tomb was gone. Libby stood up apprehensively, her body exhausted and weak. The damp patch of blood from where Jonathan removed the scarab stuck to her back. She felt her hands trembling, knowing what she would see when she looked up and away from Jonathan. She saw guns pointing at her, each in the hand of another stranger.

"Give them to me," a distinctly feminine voice demanded.

Pulling the scorpion from her pocket, she placed it reluctantly in Arabella's hand.

"And the other," she demanded. Kneeling, she removed the second scorpion out of Jonathan's pocket, surrendering it as well.

"I remember there was a time you refused to part with your antiques, Elizabeth. How times have changed!" Arabella remarked sarcastically. "Where's David?"

Libby could only assume that Kaysar's silent response had indicated that Davey was dead.

"You little whore!" Arabella screeched. She cuffed Libby hard across the face, the emerald ring on her left hand connecting with her eye. Still, Libby remained silent, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response.

"Blindfold her. Bring Carnahan with us as well. We leave for Hamunaptra tonight." Arabella shouted orders as she moved away.

Before the rag could be placed over her eyes, Libby chanced a look out over the dunes. In the distance, a figure in black robes was just barely discernable. Ardeth had seen what had happened.

Hope remained.


	25. The Sentence and the Sacrifice

In all their years of marriage, never once had Evy and Rick had an argument that lasted longer than five minutes. Minor disagreements had occurred, of course, and sometimes an argument over how to invest money or whether Alex should be brought along on their latest adventure or be left with his governess.

But never this.

According to the pocket watch he carried, Evy had not spoken to him in three days, eight hours, twenty-nine minutes, and forty-six seconds. That time, conveniently enough, coincided with precisely the duration of time that had passed since Ardeth had returned and reported the news that both Libby and Jonathan had been captured. Evy's face held no expression as she listened. Her head had snapped in his direction, and she said softly but harshly "I  _told_  you this would happen!"

Then silence.

Though he was unsure whether Libby had successfully retrieved the scorpion from Menkahour's tomb- he had an inkling she had- Rick knew that with the single scorpion his sister was carrying, Arabella now had enough to partially raise Seth. With the armies of the Medjai, they traveled a half-day's journey behind Arabella's minions, taking an unmarked path all but Alex knew well.

The path to Hamunaptra.

And all this occurred in silence. She'd slept alone in her tent the past three nights. He'd slept alone by the fire, not wanting to risk angering her even more. Ardeth had looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and pity. No woman in the Medjai culture would get away with something like this.

Sitting before the fire on the third night, he found himself depressed. Their life of adventure had certainly been fun, thrilling, and everything he could have hoped for. He'd counted himself lucky that his wife had a passion like his for travel, for exploration. But at what cost? Had the strain and stress finally destroyed his marriage beyond repair? And how had they not seen it coming?

He poked at the fire, half-heartedly attempting to keep the blaze up.  _You let her go, buddy. Maybe it was never love. It was a common love of adventure._

He paused in his thoughts.  _How could you even say that, you idiot. You love Evelyn. She loves you. Suck it up and apologize. You were in the wrong. Apologize and make this right._

Pulling himself up, he tapped on one of the wooden poles that held Evy's tent up, hoping it would be loud enough to wake her if had she fallen asleep. The seconds were endless as he waited for some sort of movement inside the tent.

"Evy. Evy please let me in. We can't keep going on like this."

The tent flap was ripped open. "It's 2:30 in the bloody morning, Richard O'Connell. You'd best have an excellent reason for interrupting my sleep."

"I was wrong," he said simply, trying to convey all he felt in those three words.

Her eyebrow rose ever-so-slightly. "Well then. You should come inside. We should talk."

Though several activities that required minimal talking passed through Rick's mind (he was, after all, only a man), he entered the tent with his heart set only on righting this situation. True love was not to be trifled with. He didn't need anyone to tell him that.

OOO

The first thing Jonathan felt as he woke up was a throbbing pain in his head. As he blinked slowly in an attempt to regain his bearings, he found that the world surrounding him was a bit hazy. Looking up, he saw that he wasn't outside- there was no sun, no blue sky there- and he was definitely was not in the pyramid. He was in a tent, and an unfamiliar one at that.

Slowly, he began wriggling his toes and fingers, his muscles aching from disuse.  _How long have I been out?_  Moving his arms, he felt his right one restrained. Jonathan turned his head quickly- much too quickly, as it resulted in a shooting sting to his head- to see. A thick rope bound him to a pole at the center of the tent.  _What the hell happened?_

He definitely remembered the stone falling and hitting him hard on the head. But what had distracted him?  _The pyramid appeared, and we explored, and Davey was killed, and kissing Libby—Libby!_

Jonathan sat up, and another twinge reminded him that any sudden movement was still unpleasant. "Libby! Libby-love where are you?"

"Jon?" a soft voice questioned from across the tent.

"Libby-love!" he cried.

"Would you shut up, you idiot!" she shot back quickly, quietly moving across the tent. "Do you really want to attract their attention?"

Confusion and trepidation overcame him. "Whose attention?" he whispered.

"The guards outside the tent. Or worse, Arabella. They were waiting outside the pyramid for us. Kaysar helped me carry you after you got knocked out. We've been with her for three or four days now, I think. Let me see your head."

Libby sat next to him, ruffling his hair as she pushed it aside to check the lump on his head. In front of his face, he saw that her wrist was bound as well, tighter than his, the skin turning a bright red from the rope burns. He reached out, pulling her hand away from his head to examine it, fingers gently grazing above where the rope had injured her.

"I tried running," she said softly. "The guards weren't so keen on that. Arabella was questioning me, but I refused to say anything 'til I saw Charlie. She's got him too. He's got a dozen guards on him. One of her men was bringing me back here and I ran. I wanted to find Rick and Evy, to get us some help. He caught me though. You're head's healing up alright, I think. The lump has gone down quite a bit.

Moving away, Jonathan got a closer look at her face. Her right eye was black. The stitches where Tamir had attacked her had been ripped open, and her upper lip was split and swollen.

"Please don't be angry at me for trying to leave without you," she said softly when he hadn't replied to what she said. "I just… I wanted to find Rick and Ardeth. I don't know what Arabella's plans are, but I think she's going to hurt Charlie. We can't-"

"Libby, why on earth would I be angry at you? You would have been stupid not to try escaping. That was brave, love. You've got more bollocks then I do." She smiled at his words, leaning into his free hand as it traced over the less wounded side of her face. "Just where the hell have we been traveling these past days?"

Outside the tent, he could hear murmuring, the sounds of a small community in motion. The heavy breathing of camels emerged from a pair of shadows walking by the tent, one damp nose sniffing under the fabric wall that separated the pair from the outside world.

"They brought us that place Evy talked about. Hamun… Hamunaptra. Jon, she took the scorpions from me."

When the words passed her lips, he thought he'd be shocked or scared, or at the very minimum have some sort of reaction. But deep down, he wasn't surprised to hear that. Arabella now had five of the seven. That was all she really needed. It was enough to partially raise Seth into a human host, and to do that she needed to be at Hamunaptra. "Bloody hell!" he heard himself exclaim.

"Quiet!" she hissed, as she saw one of the guards outside shift. "What?"

"She can raise Seth, but she needs a person to act as the host. That's why Charlie's under such heavy guard. She's going to use the boy… not that that's a problem, the little turncoat."

"No, Jon you're wrong. There's more to it than that. Think about it. Charlie had a choice, didn't he? He could tell Arabella where we were or where Rick, Evy, and Alex were. Isn't it better this way?"

Thinking about it calmly, logically, it now made sense. Jonathan had to give Charlie credit for holding himself together under pressure to make the wise choice.

"Now you see. We have to help him—" She stopped speaking suddenly. "You need to lie back down. She can't know you're awake, I don't know what she'll do to you. Pretend you're still out. Think of a way to get the three of us out of here."

Libby kissed him briefly, pushing him back so he was lying down again. She returned to the other side of the tent, a sullen look on her face. Moments later, the two guards entered. Through eyes squinted almost entirely shut, he watched as one grabbed her roughly by the arm, heaving her up. She emitted a soft squeak in pain – it was obvious she was injured far beyond what was revealed on the surface - and it took all his effort not to jump up and help her.

The other guard untied the rope that bound her. "Let's move missy. The boss wants to have a chat with you."

"I'm still capable of walking, asshole," she muttered, pulling away from the two guards as she walked out of the tent.

OOO

The little bitch wasn't going to talk until she saw Charlie.

Arabella had quickly established that fact three days prior, the first and only time she attempted speaking to her adopted daughter. The fact was, she couldn't allow Libby to see Charlie. The only way to wear the tough boy down, to keep him from having any hope of being saved and facilitate the process of sacrificing him to Seth, was to keep him isolated. Make him feel as if he were alone, abandoned by those who swore to protect and save him.

It was like a game, and Arabella loved every moment of it. He'd fought quite a bit at first, yanking at the ropes that held him, kicking and scratching at every guard that came close enough. In all of three days, she'd managed to stop all that foolishness. Charlie barely even acknowledged the man who delivered him his food every morning and evening.

The flap of the tent opened and Libby was swiftly tossed inside, landing hard on her side. Not that the girl revealed it. She kept her stubborn silence.  

"Good morning, Elizabeth."

"Let me see Charlie," was the only response she got. The younger woman's jaw was clenched, determined. This side of Libby, brave and courageous, had never existed in the years they'd shared a home.

"Why can't you just trust me when I say that he is fine and being looked after?"

A look of incredulity passed over Libby's face. "Hmm… let's ponder that a bit, shall we?"

"I don't want your attitude Elizabeth. I want answers, starting with where I can find the last of those damned scorpions."

"Even if I did know what the last clue said, I wouldn't tell you. We couldn't translate it. It's not common ancient Egyptian." The girl's voice remained even, calm. If Arabella hadn’t already been used to her evasive, stubborn ways, she would have been thoroughly convinced Libby was telling the truth.

"Oh really. Then, indulge me, what language was it in exactly?"

"Uncommon ancient Egyptian. How the hell am I supposed to know? I can barely read English on a good day, no thanks to you!"

Arabella had wanted to remain calm in hopes of having an easier time getting information out of Libby, but frustration with their lack of success in combination with the stinging, surprising sense of loss that had accompanied Davey's death caused her to lose all patience. She slapped Libby hard across the face, watching with pleasure as the woman's entire head snapped right and a bright red hand print appeared.

"Elizabeth, what did the final clue say?"

Libby struggled to stand up straight, but she found the strength nonetheless and looked into her eyes. "I. Don't. Know."

"This isn't time to play games, you stupid girl. Tell me where I can find the final scorpion."

"How many times do I have to tell you—"

"I will kill him," Arabella stated bluntly.

She didn't even have to identify the "him" in the sentence. The widening of the younger woman's eyes indicated that she already knew where Arabella's train of thought was going.

OOO

 _Like I'm very well going to sit here and wait for Arabella to finish questioning my girl. Not bloody likely._ The ceramic plate that the guard had provided Libby to eat from had been easily crushed by his foot, and he used one of the sharper shards to cut at the rope binding his wrist. The twine was older than he expected, and it separated easily under the blunt makeshift blade he had created.

Rolling his wrist gently, ensuring no further damage had been caused by the rope, he watched the shadows outside his tent. Getting past the guards was going to be difficult. Slowly he moved toward the flap of the tent, praying the guards wouldn't turn and see him moving.

Suddenly, one of them jerked, turning around and looking into the tent. Jonathan froze. He still held the ceramic shard, but that would hardly offer any defense against any modern weapon. There was a moment of recognition, where the guard realized he was moving about the tent. Jonathan watched as the guard looked at his surroundings, observing the area around the tent. Then, pulling a knife, he sliced through the second guard's throat and pulled him into the tent.

"Quickly, switch clothing with him," the young man demanded. "Arabella has Libby. She's threatening to kill you. Thank Allah you woke when you did."

"You're the lad from the hotel! Kaysar, correct? Why are you here?" he asked, unbuttoning his dirty white shirt and taking the rough, dark shirt that the guard had been wearing.

He grinned. "Helping the Medjai. Saving the world. It's a bit more thrilling than being a bell hop. Listen, I heard you speaking to Libby earlier, and you're right. Charlie is going to be used as the sacrifice to raise Seth. There's no way the three of us can stop this on our own. There are too many soldiers here. I've killed some when I caught them alone, buried them under the sands, but it hasn't been enough to make a real difference."

Jonathan pulled on the pants that Kaysar handed him, continuing to listen to the instructions the young man was passing on.

"There are two camels hidden behind a dune just outside of camp. They have water and food packed already. Your family and the armies of the Medjai are a half-day behind us to the south. Tell them when you get there that they have a day to prepare for attack. Tomorrow, traditionally, was one of Seth's feast days. They want to raise him at dusk. You absolutely must attack then. Let them think they will win. Arabella is intelligent, but egomaniacal."

Jonathan processed the information as fast as he could, the words running through his brain repetitively.  _I'm not going to let Libby down. I'm not going to let Evy and Rick and Alex down like I always do. Not this time. It's my turn to be the hero._

"Arabella is interrogating Libby now. We're going to take her out of there and the two of you will escape together. I will watch over Charlie tonight. If they try anything, I will find a way to get him out of here. You must follow this plan exactly as I have told you, do you understand?"

"Ah yes, absolutely old chum!"

"Guard!" he heard Arabella shriek from outside the tent.

"You ready, Jonathan?"

Pulling the collar of the shirt up to hide his face, he nodded in response. Time to break his girl out.

OOO

"You wouldn't dare kill Jonathan. Rick would kill you," Libby said softly, calling her bluff.

"Do you really want to risk that? What do I have to lose; I have immortality on my side."

She hadn't thought of that.  _Damn those stupid scorpions. I hate them, I hate them, I hate them!_

"We needed a sacrifice to honor Seth's rebirth anyway. I had hoped it would be you. Like father, like daughter.”

“What?”

Arabella laughed softly. “Oh don’t tell me you’re so stupid as to have never figured it out. How do you think Edwin and I knew of the box? Of the orphanage? How do you think Edwin and I found you all those years ago? Luck?”

She refused to dignify that with an answer. How had she been so blind as to not have figured it out? Of course she hadn’t – she was a scared little girl whose parents died and brother abandoned her. She was a little girl desperate for a family, desperate for something to fill the lonely void left by those who walked away. Those first few days with the Chathams, she had been so desperate to make it a home, to find some redeeming quality in the family that adopted her, she never stopped to think WHY they chose her.

All she wanted was a family.

“The thought never even crossed your mind, did it, that we might have killed your parents? Oh don’t worry – I haven’t changed my plans to kill you too.” 

"I don’t care. I have nothing to tell you, Arabella. Nothing. You know where I stand," she said deliberately.

“Then he dies. And I’ll have the sweet satisfaction of knowing you watched him burn before I kill you too.”

Libby’s breath caught in her throat.

"Guards!" Arabella called, before Libby even had the opportunity to reply, to beg for leniency or mercy, or anything that would save Jon's life.

Two men entered the tent, roughly pulling her out. She went limp in their arms, knowing it would be easier on her sore body. She didn't even care. Jon was going to die because of this damned treasure hunt, and there was nothing she could do. She barely knew anything about Egypt, there was no way she could have made up some sort of false clue.

The journey back to the tent seemed longer than before.  _It's because Jon didn't have a death sentence looming over his head fifteen minutes ago._  Looking around her, however, she saw that they were coming to the end of the line of tents. They'd passed the tent where she was being held captive long ago.

_They're going to kill me. I'm dead, I won't even be able to warn Jon. What if they take me in the desert and just leave me there? Oh God, I hope it's quick, please, let it be—_

"Libby, you need to stay absolutely silent. We're getting you out of here. You need to go find your brother."

A feeling of hope swelled in her chest. Never before had she been so relieved. "Kaysar, thank God. But who's…"

Kaysar shushed her. "We will bring you over that dune. From there you're on your own. Go south. Alright?"

"Go south. Find Rick. Got it," she replied. But who else was carrying her? It had to be someone on their side. A Medjai soldier, perhaps?

Kaysar and the guard climbed the dune, still carrying her between them. "Are you going back to Arabella?" she whispered.

"Yes, I am returning."

"You have to help Jon. She's going to kill him, you have to help him!"

The two men set her down in front of two camels, laden with supplies. "God helps those who help themselves, Libby-love," Jonathan said with a laugh.

She launched herself at him, wrapping him in a hug that was more of a strangle hold. Libby wasn't quite sure if she was happy or irked that he hadn't revealed himself earlier and let her worry, but all the same, she was thrilled that he was safe.

"Get going you two," Kaysar said with a smile, sneaking away to return to camp.

"Be safe," Libby called after him softly.

"And thanks a bunch, old boy," Jon added. "You were right, they're going to sacrifice Charlie. We have a day to save him. The resurrection begins at sunset tomorrow."

"Help me up," she commanded, and Jonathan lifted her onto the camel. Climbing atop the other, they set out at top speed, moving quickly southward to where the Medjai armies were waiting.

 


	26. Before the Dawn

Charlie Sterling had never been the type to accept death as the only option. He had determined early on in life that, when it was his time to go, it was going to be on his terms. His brain was going wild trying futilely to figure out how to cut the binds that were holding him tight against the central pole of the tent. No luck. Nothing in the tent, on the ground, or even in the pockets of the guards that brought him food gave him any hope that he might escape.

Even the best laid plans in life were not guaranteed to be successful. When Arabella said the words, he was going to die.

This time there was not going to be a grandiose escape plan orchestrated by Rick and his family. Charlie could sense it. Since they'd been captured, he'd heard not a peep from Libby or Jon. At one point he'd thought he heard the woman shouting, demanding to see him, but there was always the possibility he'd dreamed it up in his desperation to see a friendly face.

Right now, Charlie was certain he'd pay good money to see the damned Medjai. And that was saying something.

 _I'm a dead man and Arabella isn't even giving me a chance to fight back. I could lick her, but she won't even give me a chance, the coward._  Charlie sighed.

All he wanted was a bloody fighting chance.

The tent flap opened and one of the Egyptian guards entered. They'd been in and our every day, maintaining complete silence. No one ever spoke to him. It hadn't been too bad the first day, but if Arabella was trying to break him down, it was certainly starting to have an effect. He felt desolate.

The guard placed a tray before him with a plate of flat bread and a canteen of water. The same as every day, mundane and tasteless. It was the same wooden tray, the same brown ceramic plate, the same plain white cloth napkin…

 _Wait - there's never been a napkin._  

Looking up at the guard, the man nodded and slipped out of the tent. Peering around to assure he was alone, Charlie unfolded the napkin. Hastily written cursive was scrawled across the cloth.

_C- Do not panic. I am a friend. L & J returning to group. Medjai army and rescue coming. Play along with Arabella, I will be watching out for you. –K_

The note was short. He didn't exactly know who K was or what he meant by playing along with Arabella. But if the man was willing to risk his arse sneaking into the devil's snare to pass him a note, he was willing to go on a little faith.

Besides, nobody told Charlie Sterling when to die. Especially crazy old ladies.

OOO

Evening was quickly falling over their encampment, the sun setting in bright hues of orange and pink, yet Ardeth Bay still had not definitively chosen a battle plan. There were too many variables. What lay beneath the sands of Hamunaptra now compared to eleven years ago was unknown. What Arabella had in store for them was even more uncertain. Frustration was quickly overcoming him in his indecision.

_This should not be happening. Too many lives have been lost to this city already. The altar for the sacrifice should have been lost when Hamunaptra collapsed into the sand. How could Arabella have found it?_

"Stop moping about, Bay," Akram scolded as he entered the tent, carrying a bowl of foul smelling slop.

Ardeth looked up, annoyance passing over his face. He had learned never to expect quite the proper respect a chieftain ought to receive from his childhood best friend. Still, Akram's perceptiveness towards Ardeth's worries, especially in regards to his duty towards his people, never ceased to irk him.

"Rick has been cooking again?" he asked, trying to get Akram's attention off his irritable mood.

"Yes, I figured you would want some of the poison he has been passing off as food." Akram handed him a bowl. "The desert is too big for one man to defend alone, you know. I worry about you, Ardeth, as do the men. You cannot take full responsibility for all we have witnessed here. It will kill you. Please, think about that before you blame this entire situation on yourself."

He sighed, looking up from his maps. "I know, Akram. I know I shouldn't do this. But my father entrusted our people and our secrets into my hands when he died. I feel as if I have let him down."

"You haven't, friend. The people do not believe that, and neither should you." Akram took a seat across from him at the table. He looked over the maps of Hamunaptra intensely, trying to absorb every detail. From Kaysar's information, Arabella's camp was marked on the map. "What are you thinking?"

"My best guess would be that the Altar to Seth would be located centrally in Hamunaptra," Ardeth explained his scrawls on the map. Akram nodded in agreement.

"All of Arabella's men will be there to see the resurrection. She's a prideful woman, she will want them there for posterity. We could probably sneak in through her camp and surround them. That will give us the opportunity to search for any weapons she may have left behind, or any men guarding the ceremony. Maybe, if possible, we could divide into two groups and have one attack from behind. We'll have the advantage in that we know Hamunaptra better than they do."

Akram nodded. "It's a sound plan, my friend. Let us alert the men tonight. We will begin marching at dawn. If we take minimal rests, we will make it before the resurrection begins."

The tent flap ripped open and one of the men on guard entered. "Chieftain Bay, come quickly! There are riders approaching camp."

OOO

 _That little bitch_ , Arabella fumed as she watched Libby being dragged away by the guards. The resurrection of Seth could not be completed until all seven scorpions were united, and here she was, stuck with six practically useless scorpions and no one to translate her final clue.  _Just perfect._

Davey. She missed the boy more than she cared to admit. He had been a nuisance early on in her marriage to Edwin, especially after she had his mother carted off to the sanatorium. But he'd proven to be loyal and much more intelligent than she'd ever given him credit for. Now he was dead, lying in the destruction of an ancient tomb, and she was feeling almost like she'd lost a child. The boy hadn't even gotten a proper burial, thanks to the collapse.

There might have been mutual hate between the two of them, but there was a mutual need of each other's skills as well. Arabella's ability to command armies and plot was nothing without Davey's machinations and strategy. Without him, she felt vulnerable.

Settling into a chair set up within her tent, she pulled the six scorpions from her pocket, tossing them onto the lopsided card table at her feet. She was just one day away from achieving half her goal. Seth's power would be hers.

 _And as his master,_ it suddenly dawned on her,  _I can demand that he reveal the location of the last scorpion! I don't need Elizabeth or that damned drunken Brit that trails her around. I can take care of them tonight and have them out of my way. Then it'll be certain that tomorrow will go smoothly!_

"Guards!" she demanded. One of her men was there almost instantly. "Get the two prisoners, the girl and the British man, and bring them outside of camp. Their execution will be tonight."

"Right away ma'am," the man responded, jogging briskly to complete the task he was assigned.

She settled back into her tent with a new found confidence.  _I win. No one will take this victory away from me. I will have complete and total control of all humanity._ Arabella was very close to giddy in this realization.

Suddenly, she heard the word, "ESCAPE!" shouted loudly outside the tent.

"God damn!" she screamed, to no one in particular.

Exiting the tent, the men were in an uproar. Upon hearing the words, a fear had quickly spread through all those in the encampment. Arabella would have their heads if they didn't find the prisoners, for if they were lost, she wouldn't have the pleasure of ending their miserable lives. Had there been mercy in their hearts as well, they might have pitied the fool who aided in the pair of prisoners' escape.

OOO

Alex had seen them first. Bored, a feeling which was starting to become typical on this trip considering that he hadn't had a run in with a mummy or crazy Arabella in quite a while, he had decided to walk the perimeter of their encampment. His mum had told him there was the possibility that Jon and Libby would be returning today. Alex had read through the lines of that. 

_They'll be returning home today if everything goes as planned and they're not all killed trying to escape._

He knew his parents would have preferred if he sat close to them, but anything was better than that. His mum was still quieter than normal, filled with worry. Dad, on the other hand, was full of nervous energy, twitchy and pacing and checking his gun twelve times a day. No, it was too much to bear sitting around the fire with them.

They were two black figures in the distance at first, completely unrecognizable. Then he recognized Uncle Jon, clearly struggling with the reigns of the camel.  _Typical,_ was the first thing that came to his mind, but he was ecstatic to see them. Not that he would admit it, but he'd been incredibly worried about the two. They were his partners in mischief.

"Oi!" Alex shouted, attracting his parents' attention, as well as one of the guards. "They're back!"

The Medjai sped quickly to Ardeth's tent, black robes trailing behind him. The leader of the desert tribes emerged, scimitar drawn. "Do not approach until we're certain it's them!" he called.

It was way too late for those words, though. Alex watched as his mother sped across the desert, easily running through the deep sand, which impressed him. Rick was close behind, half-reprimanding her with a shouted "Evy wait!," but secretly just as happy to see the inseparable duo alive and well.

Ardeth sighed, walking over to Alex. "Your parents…"

"Yeah, I know. No bloody common sense. It runs in the family."

"My thoughts exactly." The four adults quickly approached the camp, the camels following close behind them. Alex smiled at Ardeth before running to greet them.

He ran to Jon first, giving his uncle a long hug. Jonathan picked him up, carrying him back to camp.

"Blimey, it's good to see you," the older man said. "Was a bit worried there for a while that I wouldn't be seeing you for some time, kiddo."

From Jonathan's arms, he looked over at Libby. "Bloody hell Aunt Libby, who'd you pick a fight with? Everybody?" His aunt smiled back, giving him a gently punch in the arm.

"Alex,  _language!_ " Evelyn hissed. She looked over at her brother. "This is your fault you know! He gets this from you!" she reprimanded.

"Good lord, woman, I said blimey! Can't go blaming me for the boy's foul mouth!"

Alex watched as his mother pretended to fume in anger, though it was quite obvious she was finally able to breathe normally after days of nervous tension. His dad was snickering over his mother's display of typical parental concern even in the most unlikely of situations. And of course, much to Alex's chagrin, Libby and Jon were staring at each other all googly-eyed like his parents did back home (though, he knew if he asked them, they would deny it wholeheartedly).

This was normal. This was how his family was supposed to be, and Alex wouldn't have had it any other way.

OOO

"Arabella!" She didn't recognize the man that had called her, but she did recognize the man he was pulling behind him. He was of Egyptian decent, one of the few amidst her men that she had picked up along this adventure, rather than being a part of the army from the outset. He had been one of the guards at Libby and Jonathan's tent.

"What is it?" she demanded, eyes squinting menacingly at both of the men.

"I found this man searching through your tent. Claimed he was looking for the prisoners, but I've never seen a person small enough to fit in a jewelry box." The captor looked down at the Egyptian man with scorn.

"Leave him to me," Arabella demanded. The soldier knew better than to expect any reward, and returned to the search for the prisoners.

The man before her displayed no fear, only a strong hatred which was directed at her. "Aren't you going to ask what I was doing?" he asked.

"No. I have no need for that."

The man shrugged in response.

There was no need to contemplate a course of action. Even if this man was innocent, she could not risk having turncoats within her army. No, it was better that he be used as an example to the rest of the men, a demonstration of what would happen to those who betrayed her cause.

Dragging him by the collar of his shirt to the center of camp, Arabella signaled for the attention of her army, which was quickly given. "One of you," she began, shouting loudly so that all would hear. "One of you decided that instead of helping our most noble of causes, he would betray us."

A dim murmur arose within the crowd. The accused man still did not make any effort to save himself. It was like he was expecting this all along.

"This man aided our prisoners in escaping. Not only that, he was searching my tent, trying to find the scorpions which will be used to resurrect the great god Seth. This is absolutely unacceptable!"

Without any other warning or words, without even allowing the man a final word, she removed a knife from her pocket and slit his throat. Even this was done without struggle.

Arabella dropped the man onto the ground, allowing him to bleed to death. She kicked him once, just to make sure he was dead. Then she signaled two men to pick up the body and follow her.

Entering Charlie's tent, the boy looked up hopefully. His eyes quickly revealed his disappointment and returned to staring blankly. That is, until she yanked the corpse out of the arms of the men and threw it on the ground before him.

"I don't know what you're expecting, but don't get your hopes up, boy. Tomorrow night you  _will_ be there to help resurrect Seth. Your friends are as good as dead. They can't help you now."

Dropping the body in front of the terrified boy, Arabella angrily stalked back to her tent, screaming at anyone who passed her to hurry in their search for the prisoner lest they end up the same as their friend.

OOO

Jonathan looked down at his pocket watch as he sipped from the mug of tea that Evy had made for him before she retired. It was lukewarm now, but he didn't care. He was exhausted, sun burnt, dehydrated, and just plain tired.

Just past two in the morning. He knew he ought to get to bed, as Ardeth had informed them their plans were to move out just after dawn. Jon was less than thrilled to trek back across the desert he'd only just traversed today, but there was no choice. Arabella had to be stopped at all costs.

_You just have to throw yourself back into the snake pit, old boy. That's not anything new._

But it was new, because this time there was more at stake. The last time he'd been rushed into battle against psychopaths and armies of undead, he'd of course looked out for his family. Evy, Alex, Rick, even Ardeth all meant the world to him. He'd feared every time he'd turn around and find them dead- hell, that had happened the last time.

Watching his sister die at Ahm Shere, he'd been devastated, absolutely gob smacked. Yet somehow he knew in the aftermath that he'd find a way to struggle on, if only for Alex's and Rick's sakes. It would be difficult, but as the phrase said, time does heal all wounds. Luckily, Alex's words had spurred the memory of the book of the dead. He never had to test that theory, never had to lose Evy.

Now there was Libby. Libby, who in the past week, had emerged out of nowhere to become quite possibly the single most important person in his life. It was ridiculous to feel that way, given how short a time they'd known each other. But the tug he felt on his heart every time he saw her or spoke to her reminded him of Evy and Rick, and how it wasn’t entirely implausible for love to bloom in a matter of days.

Libby was everything, and that mean there was everything to lose. This time there was no book, no magic spell to read and bring her back to life if he lost her.

Jonathan sipped his tea again. Ice cold.  _How long have I been here?_ This time the watch read three-thirty.

As he stood, he blinked the sleep from his eyes, seeking his own tent out amongst the dozens in the desert. He found it a few rows in and pushed back the flaps to enter. He couldn't be bothered changing, considering he was only going to get about an hour and a half of sleep, so he laid down under the makeshift bed on the ground.

"Jonathan," he heard a distinctly feminine voice mumble. "Are you drunk?"

He felt his face flare up red with embarrassment. Of  _course_  he would walk into Libby's tent. That would be his luck. "Nope, Libby-love, just clearly not paying attention to where I'm going. I'll be leaving now."

 _Ah yes, there's that wonderfully smooth, charming gentleman I know,_  he thought sarcastically.

He felt Libby grab his arm. "No you can stay. Please." She pulled his arm around her, settling back onto the pillow.

"Wha… why… what?" he stuttered.

_Oh yes, Jonathan Carnahan. Even smoother._

"If you were drunk, I was kicking you out of my tent. But since you're not, and there's a pretty good chance we're going to be dead by this time tomorrow, why the hell not? Now shut up and let me sleep."

He was not one to argue with a sleep deprived women, a lesson he learned from a few too many one night stands. Brushing a kiss across her cheek, he pulled her into his chest and let sleep overtake him, knowing that morning would come all too soon for his liking.

OOO

Charlie stared at the dead body before him. Arabella had murdered his one hope at survival. He couldn't believe that "K" had made it so easy for himself to get caught. Inching forward, careful not to pull on his ropes too hard, he had a sickening desire to see the face of the dead man, to know that this time, the game was over and not even his strongest desires would allow him to survive.

He was lying face down in the sand, which was quickly turning red from absorbing the blood from his neck. Blood was all over his clothes too. Charlie poked him once, feeling the stickiness of the crimson liquid, then waited, as if he expected the body to jump up and scream "just kidding!"

Closing his eyes, he mustered all his strength and flipped the corpse over.

It wasn't him.

He had never seen this man before, had no earthly idea who he was. Though his meeting with "K" had been brief, he knew for certain that this face was not his. They were completely and wholly different.

There was still a chance Libby and Jon could pull through. And if that chance existed, then Charlie was willing to fight for his life.


	27. At The Altar Of The Gods

Libby could hear movement outside her tent, the rustling of the Medjai preparing to leave for Hamunaptra. The sun was only just beginning to rise, the earliest rays appearing over the sand dunes, bursting through the flap of the tent that didn't quite close completely.

_No, no, no I don't want to leave. That means we have to fight, and I don't want to fight anymore. And Jon's really, really warm…_

Snuggling closer to him, she laid her head back down on his chest, feeling his arms tighten around her waist. "What's the matter Libby-Love?" he asked softly into her hair.

"They're getting ready to leave."

"Damn. Bloody inconvenient, that's what it is."

She had to agree. Stupid inconvenient Arabella ruining an absolutely perfect way to wake up.

Jon sat up, bringing her with him. As she sat half on his lap, he leaned over to kiss her, soft, slow, lingering in the early heat of the Egyptian morning. "You should go before Rick realizes we're here together."

"I'm not scared of him," he said cockily, leaning in to kiss her again.

Libby snorted before his lips had the chance to meet hers, ruining the moment entirely. "Seriously?"

Jonathan grinned. "Alright, I'm bloody terrified of your brother. More so than Arabella. Does that make you happy, woman?"

She giggled, feeling legitimately giddy despite what they would be facing in the coming day. Nothing she'd experienced in all her twenty-nine years measured up to the feeling of sleeping in Jonathan's arms (not that there had been many other exciting moments to compare it to, mind you).

"Get back to your tent Jon," Libby said, dragging him up off the floor. "We'll see each other all day. We have a long march ahead of us."

Walking through the flaps of the tent, he paused for a moment, turned around, and pulled her in for one more kiss. As he snuck away, keeping a close watch out for Rick, she closed the flaps and flopped back down into the sand. The smile was still on her face.

_Get up and get dressed, woman. You're not acting like a person who's going to help save the world today. Pull yourself together. Everything is at stake here, and you're acting like a girl going on her first date. Real smart._

She sighed, straightening her clothing and attempting to tie her hair back so it wouldn't be in her face.  _You have to accept that there's a good chance that both of you won't make it out of there today. A really good chance of that. You're going to have to overcome that ridiculous guilt complex of yours so you can help your family. Do that first. Then act like a teenager in love._

OOO

"Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad!" Rick heard his son whisper loudly, poking him in the side. "DAD!"

He rolled over quickly, fumbling to find his gun. "Wha'? Wha' happened? Where's the danger?" Groggily he sat up, blinking. The sun was just starting to rise.

"Ardeth said it's time to leave," Alex said. Rolling over, Rick looked at his wife. It seemed unfair to wake her when she was getting her first night of sound sleep in over a week.

"Mr. Bay, Alex," Evy mumbled as she turned over. "Call him Mr. Bay."

Rick stepped around Alex to peer outside the tent, saying, "Yeah, what your mom said."

"Alright,  _Mr. Bay_  said it's time to leave." Rick glanced over at Ardeth's men, who were making their final preparations to leave the campsite and head into battle. A few men were disassembling tents, another was dampening the remaining fires from the night before. The Medjai generals were beginning to line their men up to travel, and Jon was kissing Libby as he left her tent. Just outside the camp, Ardeth-

_Whoa, whoa hold on a second! What the hell is Jonathan doing in my little sister's tent?_

"Evy, I have to go strangle your brother."

Evelyn rolled her eyes as she stood. "Don't do that, dearest, we need the numbers when we go up against Arabella today. Besides, it seems you've forgotten that on our trip back from Hamunaptra, my darling brother so kindly spared your life after he walked into your tent at a most inopportune time."

"Oi! Too much information!" Alex shouted, quickly exiting the tent. Rick was sure he was off to join Ardeth. He would have done the same at his age.

Rick turned to face his wife as soon as his son had left. "Wait. How'd you know they were…"

"Woman’s intuition. Now get going. You can give Jonathan the official big brother speech once we survive today." She finished wrapping up the bedrolls and moved them out of the tent, leaving him with a kiss on the cheek as he marveled at her ability to know everything.

OOO

"Akram, are your men ready? Khalid and Ziyhad have prepared their men. They wait only for your word to move out." Ardeth said.

"Yes, they are lined up and ready. You know I wait for your word. You are still my chieftain, though we lead two separate attacks today."

Ardeth nodded, appreciating the respect that Akram was giving him today. Time-honored tradition between the Medjai was to be respected, though there was a time and place for the friendship that both recognized.

"What are the American and his family going to do? Will they fight with us today?" Akram asked.

"They will travel with me. I don't think anything could talk Rick and Evelyn out of a fight, and even Jonathan seems prepared to battle today." Adjusting his turban, he wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead.

"May Allah protect you today, my friend, you and all our men," Akram said.

"And you as well," Ardeth replied. Akram swung up onto his horse, and with a loud cry and whoop, he signaled his men to begin their march into the desert. The chieftain watched their descent into the horizon, slowly disappearing amidst the sand, before returning to the final preparations of his own men.

He looked over the men who stood before him. It marveled Ardeth every time that these men were so loyal to their cause. True, it was their sacred duty to fight for the history and legacy of Ancient Egypt, but that epoch was a distant past. Yet here they stood, prepared to give their lives once again. He doubted that any other group of people in the world exhibited such loyalty and determination. With less pomp than Akram, he signaled for his men to begin marching.

OOO

"Put these on!" a scrawny American man commanded, tossing a loose white tunic and light, baggy khaki pants at Charlie.

"I'm already wearing clothes, you sodding idiot," the boy shot back, throwing the clothes back at the man. Outside the tent, he saw the shadow of another person approaching, then quickly turn away. It had to be Ardeth's man again- who else would avoid coming in contact with one of Arabella's men?

"Listen, I don't make the rules kid. Arabella wants you dressed up for the ceremony."

Charlie turned back to the man. "So! She can just kill me in these clothes! There ain't no difference, either way I'm dead!" It was ridiculous, spending his last hours arguing over clothing, but anything that would delay this scheme, give the others time to come and find him.

The scrawny man hit him hard upside the head, and Charlie saw nonexistent lights flashing before his eyes. "I don't know who you think you are, but Mrs. Chatham is having her ceremony tonight, and you  _will_ be the guest of honor. Got it? I'll be back in fifteen minutes, and you sure as hell had better be ready then. Clear?"

Kicking sand up into Charlie's face as he left the tent, the boy was left to stare at the pile of clothes.  _These look like something Jonathan would wear. Wonder if he and Libby made it back to the others._

As the flap swung shut, Charlie glimpsed the sun rising higher in the sky. It was late morning, maybe even early afternoon, and he had yet to get definitive plans for his escape. On the floor before him, the dead corpse of the guard lay, the smell of decay growing pungent in the desert heat.  _I can't bloody believe I'm doing this…_ he thought, inching himself closer to the body.

With his unbound hand he reached into the pocket of the corpse's pants. He nearly cried out when he nicked his finger, but found what he was searching for- a thin blade, just strong enough to cut the ropes that bound him.  _No sense waiting around here for rescue when I can just as well save myself._

He easily sawed through, standing for the first time in days. Charlie felt his knees buckle, and he grabbed the center pole for support.  _So this could make escape a bit difficult, now, couldn't it?_

"Damn, I didn't think he'd ever leave. Now I have even less time to fill you in on the plan," Libby's friend said as he entered the tent. "How the hell did you cut yourself loose?"

Charlie grinned. "Arabella didn't check 'the spy's' pockets before dumping him here. Lucky for me. You're off the hook, pal. I can escape on my own! Just give me enough rations to last me 'til I get out of the desert!"

The man frowned. "Absolutely not. What are you thinking?"

"What am I thinking? I'm thinkin’ I'd prefer not to be dead!"

The man picked up the clothes the other guard had left behind. "You need to keep playing along with this charade. If you go into the desert, you'll either die of thirst or die when Arabella's men shoot you down. One man cannot survive in the desert alone, and I would think someone so concerned with saving their arse, such as you, would know that."

Charlie felt his eyebrow raise and anger surge through him. "So, what would you like me to do? Bind my sodding hands and let them lead me to my own sacrifice? Cause that doesn't bloody well seem like the best option either!"

"That's exactly what you have to do! Arabella can't expect that an attack is coming. If you run, she'll be out in the desert with all her armies ready. At the sacrifice, she'll have all the men around watching her, not their backs. No one will be prepared for a surprise attack. So yes, you need to let them think they're going to kill you!"

Charlie felt like an idiot, but he suspected he should have realized this long ago. Rick and Evy had their family back- Jonathan and Libby were safe, and Alex had been with them the entire time. There was no reason to try and save him.

He remembered what he heard when Davey had read Arabella the translation of the stone. With four scorpions they could resurrect Seth, but he would not be made invincible. So it didn't matter if they got there too late for Charlie. If he died, and Seth was partially resurrected in his body, they could still kill the god and save the day.

_I'm expendable…_

_Great job, Charlie Sterling. You learned not to trust people long ago, you sodding idiot. See what happens when you depend on others? They throw you to the lions and let you get sacrificed so some psychopathic bitch can resurrect an ancient god. You have no one to blame but yourself, thinking they'd come back and rescue you when their family is entirely safe and accounted for._

"They think they're going to kill me or they're actually going to kill me?" Charlie asked suspiciously. "There's a difference. Which one is it?"

"Think. It's always been think. They will make it here in time to save you. And even if they don't, Ardeth and I have agreed on a backup plan. You will not die here today Charlie. Trust me."

"I don't trust people. That's what gets you killed in the end."

"Fine. Don't believe me. Run off into the desert, I won't stop you. Let's see how far you get before you start hallucinating from exposure to the sun and your canteen runs out of water. That really sounds like the wiser choice." The man sighed. "Charlie, I know you don't trust people. I was the same way as a kid, when I lived on the streets of Cairo. At least, until Libby hired me as a bell hop at her hotel. You won't die today. I can assure you that."

Charlie frowned, thinking. He still didn't entirely trust that they were coming for him. But comparing the death sentences, a quick death by knife seemed a better option than a slow death in the desert. Picking up the clothes that the scrawny man had left behind, he said, "I sure as hell hope you know what you're doing."

The man only smiled as he slipped out of the tent. "Trust me."

_Right…_

OOO

Arabella was impressed. The men had excavated the site perfectly, freeing the marble altar built by Seth's minions thousands of years before. Around the altar, they had cleared an additional circle of sand, providing enough room for all of her soldiers to stand. She wanted plenty of witnesses to this: the dawn of a new era was upon them, where the ruthless and powerful dominated those that were weak. As the sun set and her army gathered, she was gleaming with pride. Not even Libby and Jonathan's escape bothered her now.

Really, what did it matter? Once Seth was reborn, his honor and glory restored, it would only be a matter of time before the O'Connell family was tracked down. Seth could finish them all off, the first victims of his reign. Just as long as Arabella got the pleasure of killing Libby slowly, torturously, preferably in front of that British fool.

From behind the man-made mountain of sand formed by the excavation, she heard shouts of protest. 

_Damn it all, that boy is putting up a struggle. I was sure that he'd be broken down by now._

She watched as the red haired boy brought down to the altar, his feet dragging in the sand, trying to run the other way.  _He's feisty. Seth will be glad to have his body, it's still young and healthy._

It was mid-afternoon now, just a few short hours before the ceremony was slated to begin.

"Welcome to our little gathering Charlie," she shouted as the boy was brought before the altar.

"Go to hell you bitch!" he shouted back.

Between the anticipation for fulfillment of her ultimate goal and dealing with this headstrong boy, the next few hours were likely going to be the longest of Arabella's life.

OOO

"We're nearing the camp," Jonathan informed Ardeth, feeling exhausted. Libby nodded in agreement, looking a bit peaky as well. She smiled at him half-heartedly, each step a bit slower than the last. She needed more rest than the few hours she’d gotten the night before.

Marching through the desert two days in a row had certainly done them no favors.

In the distance, he recognized the peaks of the tents that Arabella and her men had inhabited. The encampment appeared deserted.

"Good," Ardeth replied. "It's nearing sunset. We will have to work quickly. According to the site plans from Kaysar, that dip in the sand over there is the site of the altar. Arabella and her men will be there. Akram and his men are approaching from the opposite side. We shall go through the camp. Men!" he shouted. "We move quietly from here on out!"

Jon watched as a worried look passed over his sister's face. "Rick, what are we going to do with Alex? We're not bringing him with us, we can't!"

"Evelyn, you and Alex can stay here. I will leave a small detail to protect you, should the fighting make its way over here," Ardeth offered.

"Like hell I'm staying here!" Evy shouted. Rick moved to protest, but Jon knew it would be a lost cause. There was no convincing his sister when her mind was set. "No, Rick! I have stayed behind on half the adventures on this journey. I am not sending you into battle alone. Not today. We need everyone we can get. You will not leave me behind."

His brother-in-law frowned. "And what if something happens to both of us? What then Evy?" he spoke softly, trying to avoid a scene.

"It's highly unlikely. And if it does happen, it’ll be dealt with when the time comes. Alex will be fine with some of Ardeth's men. Please, don't take this away from me. I fight better than most, and I need to be by your side."

Then the husband and wife both stopped talking, staring at one another.  _Them and their bloody mind reading, or whatever it is they do…_

It appeared Evy won this time. "Fine, Evelyn. But Alex stays behind with the detail. And if they move anywhere near this camp, or things start looking bad out there, we're both joining that detail. Our son comes first. We are not leaving him parentless."

"Absolutely," Evelyn agreed.

"Aw mum, I'm not a kid-" Alex began whining.

"Move it, mister," she commanded, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "No matter what, remember that we love you."

Rick ruffled the boy's hair as Ardeth signaled for eight or nine men to stand down from the ranks. Issuing their commands briefly, Ardeth then commanded the rest of the army to begin the long march toward Arabella's camp.

OOO

Arabella pulled the knot tightly, and Charlie felt the circulation in both his ankles and his wrists being cut off by the rough rope. The cold stone of the marble altar pressed against his body as the night began falling over the desert.

_I knew I shouldn't have struggled that much. Now I can't bloody feel my toes._

Turning his head, Charlie saw the last of Arabella's soldiers filing into the contrived arena. He was the center of the spectacle and he knew it. Murmurs filled the air, a variety of languages emerging. Though the men had some details of the evening's events, Arabella had obviously not been entirely forthcoming with details of Seth's resurrection.

"Silence!" the woman cried loudly. The hush that followed was frightening. No one said a word. "Tonight is the celebration of Seth, God of Chaos. Three thousand years ago, the Cult of Tanis and Ombos, my ancestors, worshiped Seth here on these grounds. They built this altar with their bare hands, the sweat of a hundred men working in secret to avoid the careful eye of the Medjai. Their hope was to one day resurrect Seth so that he might again reign over the world. Today, we shall bring that fruition."

 _Oh this is just bloody brilliant. She's related to the original psychopaths._ Charlie was tempted to start beating his head into the marble slab, just to end his miserable life before she had a chance to.

She started chanting in a language he didn't understand. He assumed it was ancient Egyptian, what else could it have been? The words rolled off her tongue easily, sounding musical as she bounced along the words. He felt himself fading, falling, drifting closer and closer to something he couldn't quite recognize...

Above him, as the evening sun rose, the last rays bounced off the shining silver knife Arabella's hand. Raised high above his head, Charlie sensed that this, finally, was his last breath.


	28. To Save A Sacrifice

_Damnit,_  Kaysar thought as he watched Arabella chant. Charlie was struggling unsuccessfully against the binds that held him, certainly feeling betrayed. The woman had started the ceremony twenty minutes earlier than expected, and there was no way that Ardeth could be prepared to launch the attack.

It shouldn't have happened like this. In all his weeks traveling with the enemy, never had Arabella diverged from the routine and the schedule. She needed order to function and she maintained it strictly.  _It doesn't make sense, why start early?_ Kaysar saw Charlie's head was turned toward him, desperately searching the crowd.  _I promised him. I promised Charlie I'd make sure he was safe!_

The back-up plan had been a farce. Kaysar had assured Ardeth that there would be no need for a back-up plan, and given the time constraints they'd been under and the amount of information they had, the Medjai leader and his men had agreed. Now, more than ever, Kaysar wished they'd taken the time to plan it out. It had just seemed so inconsequential then…

Slowly, trying not to draw any attention to himself, he began climbing the mountain of sand to get a better view of the camp. Ardeth's army would be coming from that direction.

He was glad he had chosen to stand in the back of the army's ranks. As the ceremony began, the men had crushed forward, everyone vying for the best view of the sacrifice, lulled into a strange calm by the musicality of the woman's chant. He never would have been able to escape the crowd to signal Ardeth had he been in front.

With every inflection of her voice, he knew Charlie's life grew closer to its end. At the top of the mound, he looked back toward the encampment. There was just enough light to discern Ardeth's army moving through. They were still too far. Though Kaysar did not know how long Arabella's spell would require to finish, he was not willing to risk Charlie's life.

_You promised…_

Going on instinct, because it was all he had at this point, he pulled the pistol Ardeth had given him from the carefully concealed holster on his belt. Kaysar, by far, was no gun expert, and he only hoped that, from the distance he stood from Arabella, he would come remotely close to hitting her. Aiming carefully, he fired a single shot.

A scream emerged from the altar, loud and resonant, and the eyes of an entire army were upon him. In that moment, Kaysar wished he'd planned farther ahead than just shooting Arabella. He had no idea as to what to do.

And one against twelve hundred, in any man's book, had never been good odds.

OOO

The sound of a gunshot pierced the air as they marched, sending a shiver down Evy's spine. The librarian within her, even after a life of substantial danger and adventure, had never quite gotten used to the loud noise produced by the steel weapon. Glancing at Libby, she saw the younger woman had a similar reaction.

"Something's wrong," Ardeth muttered. Turning to his men, he commanded, "Pass on the word to move faster!"

Hushed voices quickly spread the message through the ranks. As they doubled their pace, a second bullet, and then a third, was fired in quick succession. They were nearing the edge of Arabella's tent city.

"Bay, what's the matter?" Rick demanded. Evy could tell from her husband's tone that he had an inkling of what was going on.

"Something went wrong, that is what happened. Kaysar assured me that the timeline we had was accurate. Arabella's army should just be getting into place now, but look. You cannot see any of the men entering the arena, nor any in camp. They are already there. And the gun…"

"What does that mean?" Libby interrupted, her concern for the two young men evident on her face. Evy shared her feelings. They were both still very young, Charlie just barely older than Alex was. Motherly instinct was taking over.

"Either," Ardeth said with grave confidence, "Charlie and Kaysar are dead, or are soon going to be."

"No, tha—" A fourth shot interrupted her rebuttal of the horrific truth, and Libby stopped walking. The Medjai warriors filtered around her, continuing their procession.

Pushing past Evelyn, Jon whispered, "Libby-love, if you want to help them, you have to keep moving." The words had done the trick. Libby was walking again, this time taking the lead within the smaller group of five. Not willing to be left behind Evy picked up her step as well.

OOO

The pain that spread quickly from her hand through the rest of body caused Arabella to scream. "Find the traitor!" she shouted, doubling over. The knife for the sacrifice, wherever it had dropped, was forgotten.

Opening her palm, she saw the bullet had gone clean through, taking her thumb off and leaving her pointer finger hanging by just the barest remnants of skin. It throbbed, and she felt paralyzed, incapable of continuing.

_Get over it, Arabella. You are just moments away from resurrecting Seth. He can cure you. He will reattach your fingers- hell, he'll make you immortal. What are two fingers when you're going to live for all eternity?_

From beyond the altar, she heard five or six gunshots. It didn't concern her- even if it was the traitor, he would eventually run out of bullets and her army would overtake him. Arabella had to find the knife. Kneeling, she began searching the ground, blood from her hand splattering across the sand. 

_Damnit, this is not how this was supposed to go._

There was a loud scream from a distance, like a cat being kicked in the gut, and Arabella abandoned her search for the knife. Standing up fast, she felt dizzy, but pushed the feeling aside. Her men were being shot by the solitary figure that was leading them on a chase up the sand dune. Behind him she saw a large, dark mass slowly approaching.

The Medjai had arrived.

They moved easily through the desert, of course. It was their territory, unlike her sham of an army that still struggled to plod through the deep sands. En masse, with swords drawn, they streamed into camp. The mercenaries she'd hired and picked off the streets were unprepared, and the men furthest from the altar were struck down quickly. At such close proximity, their guns were of little use, and they scrambled to find knives, scimitars, anything that they could use to defend themselves.

The reality hit her that if she kept getting distracted, allowed any more time to pass, the spell would not be completed and she would die without ever realizing the resurrection of Seth. Sixty years of work on her part would be entirely lost. Whispering the words of the spell to save time, her eyes darted around the ground, past her severed thumb, for any sign of the blade.

She'd given up on decorum and glory. At this point, all that mattered was success.

 _Maybe it fell on the altar?_ Glancing over the marble slab, words still pouring from her mouth rhythmically, she still did not see the knife.  _How could I lose it? I dropped it, my eyes were off it for two minutes at the most._

The last words of the incantation were spoken softly.  _Under the boy! The knife probably slid under the boy's clothes._ The tunic that Charlie wore was loose, with extra fabric that draped over the altar. Had the knife fallen on the slab, the cloth might have concealed it. Without hesitation, she leaned over Charlie's arm to lift up the fabric.

A second, sudden pain, much deeper and more affecting than the pain she felt when the bullet pierced her hand, swept through her body. Pulling away, she saw the knife pointing upwards in Charlie's bound hand, covered with her own blood.

Arabella fell to the ground, the look of mixed shock and relief on the boy's face imprinted in her mind.

OOO

Libby never imagined she'd be in the middle of a battle. She who loathed violence, she who moped for days after killing in Rome and felt guilt for years after shooting Edwin, was carrying two fully loaded pistols in holsters and one in her hand. From her vantage point at the top of the sand mountain, safely between Rick and Jonathan, she could see the first wave of Medjai, see Charlie struggling on the altar.

Charlie, who was so much like her. Charlie, who deserved so much better than the life she’d endured.

She didn’t want to kill, but for Charlie and Jon, for her family, she would.

Rick didn't ask if they were ready and sprinted down the dune toward the battle. Libby followed closely, surprised to find herself easily keeping up with the rest of the family. They swept around the outskirts of the skirmish, the Medjai easily keeping Arabella's ragtag army from noticing the group of four. She could hear Ardeth shouting out commands in Arabic, see the swinging of swords and the jabbing of knives.

"Libby move!" Jonathan shouted. She ducked down, stumbling on the ground in her attempt to avoid whatever he had seen.

He fired two bullets into a man who had his sword raised high above his head, and he fell to the ground. Jonathan grabbed Libby under the arm and pulled her after him. She was shaken a bit at how close to death she'd been, but she pushed it aside, compartmentalizing. Charlie was her priority.

As they approached the marble slab, the first thing Libby noticed was that Arabella was not there. Charlie had something in his hand and was still struggling against the binds. Libby pushed herself to move faster, pain building up in her muscles.

"Charlie!" she shouted loudly. The boy's head shot up, and Libby was overjoyed to see that he didn't appear harmed. He was shouting something at her, but she couldn't hear.

Closer and closer they moved, and Charlie kept shouting, kept struggling against the binds.

"I stabbed her! I stabbed Arabella!" she heard the boy shout.

"She's dead?" Rick muttered skeptically. Libby caught sight of a heap of clothing under the altar, completely still. Flaming red hair with a tint of gray was spread on the sand around it.

It was most definitely Arabella.

OOO

Ardeth put all his energy and strength into swinging the scimitar in his hand. The blade swooped noiselessly through the air, lodging into the side of one of the enemy that had been trying to load his gun. He pulled the blade out and whipped around to where he saw another enemy soldier about to skewer a Medjai warrior through the stomach. Plunging the sword into the man's back, he saw his comrade kill two additional enemy soldiers.

"Bay!" he heard a voice shout. Akram appeared at his side. "Could you not wait five more minutes? Patience, my friend, patience."

Standing back to back, the duo sliced and swung at the enemy, watching them fall. With Akram's arrival, it meant that their army was nearly the same size as Arabella's, maybe a bit larger. Barring a calamity of epic proportions, it seemed that the day would be won and he could return home soon with news of victory.

Having defeated the circle of mercenaries around them, Akram began to move towards a group of men that appeared outnumbered almost three to one. He signaled for Ardeth to follow, but did not make it far, tripping over a corpse hidden in the sands that had been kicked up during the battle. Ardeth heard himself gasp audibly.

"What is it?" Akram asked as he stood, not bothering to shake the sand from his robes. "Have you been hurt?"

"It is the boy."

Kaysar's body was bloody and rigid. He had been shot several times and his eyes were wide open, though they did not appear scared. Sand stuck to the last few beads of sweat that had dripped from his brow as he ran from the enemy.

 _He allowed himself to be killed to save Charlie. He alone prevented Arabella from raising Seth._  

The boy had been brave. It had not been his fight, yet he volunteered to infiltrate Arabella's ranks with an enthusiasm unmatched by any. Ardeth found himself unusually overcome with emotion, grieving deeply at the death of the boy.

The sounds of the battle behind him grew and he knew he should continue to fight, but it was not until Akram grabbed him by the shoulder and said, "We can take care of his remains once we defeat Arabella," that he found himself able to move.

And as he rushed back into the battle with new strength, a frightening man emerged from within him, killing deliberately with the scimitar in his hand.

OOO

"We've got you Charlie, calm down!" Jonathan heard his sister say soothingly as she took the bloodied knife from the boy's hand.

"Jon! We got company!" Rick shouted. He turned to see four mercenaries rushing him. Scurrying past the altar, he held his pistol steady and shot one through the chest. The second was easily dispatched as well, falling on top of his comrade.

Rick had two men attacking him at once. One of the men punched him hard in the face, sending him staggering back a few steps. Collecting himself, Rick retaliated with a punch to the gut. He wasn't paying attention to the second mercenary, who was attempting to withdraw a knife from the scabbard on his waist. He was eying Rick viciously, his intent clear.

Aiming his pistol, Jon found he couldn't get a clear shot at the man with the knife. The man was approaching Rick, who now had the second mercenary in a strangle hold. Quickly, Jon moved trying to find an angle where he could get a clear shot at the man with the knife. It seemed there was none, as everyone kept moving, kept throwing punches. And just as it seemed the man with the knife would plunge it into Rick's back, he fell to the ground dead.

Jonathan looked up to see a newly freed Charlie holding one of Libby's pistols in his hands. "Well done, old boy."

The boy grinned, hopping down to take a place between Rick and Jon as another wave of mercenaries approached them.

OOO

Arabella felt different. As she slowly moved her toes and fingers, reminding herself how the muscles and tendons worked, she knew she wasn't the same as she'd been before. She was certain she had been dead. But not now. She sipped in the air just like any living person.

 _The reincarnation… did I… it couldn't have, could it?_  

It seemed that the reincarnation had occurred, just not as expected. She now had the power of Seth.

Arabella supposed she should be thankful to the little brat that stabbed her. She had finished the words of the spell just in time and Charlie had never even realized it. The spell had been said and all that required was the sacrifice. That was her.

It struck her as odd that she felt the same. She was still Arabella Chatham in thought, but her memories were greatly expanded. She could see not only her own life, but the life of one much older as well. She had the wisdom of Seth.

Looking down at her stomach, the stab wound inflicted upon her was gone. Her fingers were back.

Two sets of feet ran by her. Looking up, she saw Libby and her sister-in-law looking after Charlie, cutting the boy loose. They weren't paying any attention to her supposed corpse. As she sat up, she saw the boy finally free himself, and Libby shoving her own weapons into his hands.  _That woman will never learn. She's too much of a coward to fight for herself._

Arabella remained still, observing how the battle progressed. Her men were falling quickly, the Medjai clearly the more skilled and better trained. She was certain that, to the O'Connells, it appeared that they would soon be victorious.

 _Not now, though_ , she thought with a smirk. For besides the wisdom of Seth, the reincarnation had given her control of his undead armies.

The words she whispered were unfamiliar, a language never taught to her in life. Yet somehow she knew, inherently, that these were the words she needed to say to bring forth Seth's army. From beneath the altar, she saw the sands under the Medjai's feet shifting, opening up. As if they were spontaneously forming, a gust of strong wind blew out of the opening, bringing the mummy army forth.

"Attack!" she cried in the language that Seth had blessed her with. "But I want the girl! Do you hear? I get to kill Libby O'Connell."


	29. The Lie of Immortality

"Are you kidding me?" Rick shouted at Libby. "Where the hell did these guys come from?"

"I sent them a telegram inviting them to tea. How the hell should I know, Richie?" Libby responded. "The only people who could raise the dead are as dead as these guys!"

The newly reborn legionnaires were uncountable. Like the scarabs that rose out of the tomb to surround her just two days before, their numbers seemed to multiply with every passing second, their ancient weapons sharp as the day they died. Quickly they surrounded her and the rest of the family

 _They're already dead,_ Libby told herself.  _You can kill them, they already died once. Technically they're no longer living._  Repeating these lines in her head, she shot one through the neck, knocking its head clear off its spine. The body moved forward a few more feet, grasping for her with the shining metal sword it held in its hand, and then fell.

"Libby, grab the sword. It's easier to work with!" Evy shouted, parrying against one of the mummies with a scimitar she'd taken from a fallen Medjai. She swung upwards, taking off its arm, and then stomped on it with her foot to make sure it didn't keep crawling across the ground. Quickly, she cut the mummy in half, and it disappeared, a rush of wind sweeping the ashes away, along with the remains of the four that Rick had easily handled.

 _Oh yes, fight with the sword she says. Because I really know how to wield a sword. Great idea, Evy._  Libby wished she'd been there for one of the other journeys the family had taken. At least  _then_ she'd know what she was doing.

Another warrior ran at her, and she ducked when it swung a long scythe at her head. The creature lost its balance, tottering on one foot. As she stood, she rammed the sword through the mummy's chest. It dissipated in a cloud of dust, leaving only a pile of sand on the ground where it once stood.

Searching for Jonathan, she found him slowly being corned against the altar, fighting two mummies simultaneously. Though he had a small knife in his hand, he punched the monster in the face, grabbing its much sturdier sword out of its hand as it stumbled back. Jon used it to decapitate the second mummy, as Libby finished off the first.

He shot her a quick smile of thanks, but Libby was distracted and never saw it. For behind the altar there was a pool of blood, just as there had been when she cut Charlie loose. But the body that once lay there was gone.

"Jon?"

"Yes Libby-love?"

"I think we have a bigger problem than mummies."

OOO

"This is worse than the armies of Anubis!" Akram shouted over the din of the battle. Ardeth couldn't help but agree silently, slaying two more of the undead warriors. They outnumbered the Medjai army, by his best estimate by almost three to one.

In the distance, he could see the remnants of Arabella's mercenary army running into the desert like cowards. Upon seeing the mummies rise out of the sand, panic had descended amidst them and they'd retreated in haste. Now they were entering the desert without any supplies. He wanted to say that the harsh environment would save him some work and finish these men off, but history and Rick O'Connell had taught him easily that one strong man could survive in the desert and live to fight another day. He would send a battalion of warriors to ensure they were all taken care of once the current battle was over.

"What now, Chieftain Bay?" Akram asked as he skewered two of the beasts in a single stroke of his sword.

"We must find Charlie and kill him. His body is now inhabited by the soul of Seth. Then we kill Arabella." He didn't include the words 'preferably in a manner most painful' at the end of the sentence, but he certainly thought them.

Ardeth felt relieved that he hadn't seen the boy's sacrifice. Charlie was snarky and rude and a bit self-obsessed, but there was something more to the boy, something that would never be developed. He had the potential to be a strong warrior.  _Put your emotions aside, Bay. You've never allowed them to best you before. Save the world and then mourn what was lost…_

"Ardeth, I see her," Akram shouted.

The woman stood just outside the battle, avoiding any involvement. In her hand, she held the knife that had been used for Charlie's sacrifice, the last drops of his blood falling onto the sand. Ardeth followed her line of vision, and saw that she was watching the O'Connells fighting. Evy, Rick, Jon, and Libby were moving rapidly, battling with ease - a surprise, when he considered how terrified Libby was of picking up a weapon when he first met her. And with them was Charlie, alive and healthy, not a sign of injury to his body.

"Bay, what is the matter with you?" he heard Akram shout as he pummeled another undead warrior.

"Charlie is alive. He is fighting with Rick."

"Then who was the sacrifice?" Akram asked, clearly puzzled.

Ardeth was about to reply with his uncertain answer, when he was rushed by two shockingly agile mummies. As he swung and jabbed, he pondered Akram's excellent question. How had Arabella managed this without killing the boy?

The two mummies were quickly dispatched, and Ardeth stared back at Arabella. Out of nowhere, the woman ran into the fray, shoving mummies and humans aside. It took him a moment, but he finally realized who Arabella's target was: Libby.

And then it hit him. Arabella ran with only the small knife to defend herself. She was without a care in the world, as if she was unconcerned with her safety. As if there was no danger.

Arabella had been the sacrifice. She thought herself immortal- and she was wrong.

"We have to save Libby!" Ardeth shouted franticly.

OOO

"What do you mean Arabella's missing?" Jonathan heard himself screech several seconds after Libby pointed out the missing corpse. Had they been in public on a normal day, he'd be embarrassed to hear that voice emitting from his throat, but right now it seemed quite appropriate.

"She's not dead! Her body is gone and I can't find her!" Libby shouted, finishing off one last mummy. There was no more danger in the immediate area and the Medjai, though outnumbered, seemed to have a handle on the situation. It was time now to regroup and determine how best to proceed.

"Maybe her men took her body?" Evy suggested.

"No, we would have seen them," Rick said. "Libby's right, she's moving. Seth took over her body, remember? It'll look like her and act like her, but with more power."

"Well that's bloody brilliant," Jonathan said, feeling desolate. "The crazy lady is now possessed by a crazy god. Best day of my life."

"Oh Jonathan, would you please attempt to contribute to the solution and not act so... so... so bloody melodramatic!" Evy responded, exasperated. "She's not immortal. We've been saying that all along, it's just a matter of finding her and killing her."

"Then let's kill the bitch," Charlie said. Jonathan could see his frustration growing. Simply standing around and discussing the problem was not going to solve their problems.

"I believe it would be bastard, old boy," Jonathan replied, attempting to ease the tension. "She isn't really a she anymore, considering Seth was a man and all."

Charlie gaped at him momentarily and stormed away. "If no one else is going to finish this job, then I will," he shouted over his shoulder.

Evelyn glared at Jon, unhappy that the boy had run off on his own again. There was no time, though, for a reprimand. A surge of mummies and Medjai swept towards the altar, and they were quickly thrown back into the fray. Rick and Evy threw themselves back into the fighting, and he was prepared to as well, when he saw Libby jogging away from the battle.

He followed her, grabbing her shoulder. "Libby-love—"

"I am not letting him go off on his own again. He is  _not_ dying on my watch, Jonathan. Not today."

Quickly glancing back at Rick and Evy, he saw that they had the situation under control. Ardeth was also running to their side, a hint of determination and desperation in his eyes. They would be fine if he left. "Well then, Libby-love. Let's go save Charlie. Again."

As they chased after the boy, neither noticed that Ardeth had run straight past Rick and Evy. And in the din of the battle, they never heard him shout Libby's name in warning.

OOO

Arabella watched carefully as they isolated themselves from the fighting. Charlie, when he stormed off, had headed back towards the camp, away from the battle that was now centered around the altar. Libby was close behind, jogging to catch up with the boy. Jonathan still trailed behind her, taking care of one last undead legionnaire before following. Split up such as they were, they were perfect targets. Opportunities like this were not to be ignored.

Willing Seth to aid her, she ran at Libby with a speed that she had never possessed before, even in her youth. Only a few seconds passed between the start of her sprint and actually making contact with the woman. The impact brought them both to the ground, Libby gasping for air at the shock of being hit with such a force. Arabella smirked in delight. This would be the easiest part of this long quest. Libby was no challenge, the pathetic little bint.

"Libby-love!" she heard the British man shout, and she knew she had to act quickly.

Arabella wanted Libby dead before Jonathan arrived at her side. Denying them a chance to say goodbye would be the only thing more satisfying than killing the woman. The duo had denied her the opportunity to say goodbye to Davey. Libby had ensured she would never said goodbye to Edwin. Retribution was only fair.

Libby began kicking and punching, trying to regain her freedom, but she was firmly trapped under Arabella's body. From the small scabbard at her waist, Arabella withdrew the sword that, just minutes ago, had been the cause of her own death.

"CHARLIE!" Jonathan bellowed, having caught sight of the knife. "CHARLIE HELP!"

Briefly, Arabella looked up to see if the boy was coming back. The distraction was enough for Libby to get the upper hand. Suddenly she found herself on her back, sinking into the sand. Libby was clutching her neck with her bare hands, fury in her eyes. It was entirely unanticipated. The girl was supposed to be the least of her concerns, too weak and too scared to defend herself.

"Libby, the knife!" Charlie was shouting now. "Kill 'er with the knife! It's next to you!"

Arabella was choking, suffocating. Libby was ignoring the boy, her grip unrelenting.  _This shouldn't be happening,_ she thought desperately as black and purple spots began forming before her eyes. _I'm supposed to be immortal. The spell was supposed to make me immortal._

She swung at Libby hard, knocking her off her. Seth's strength had been a blessing- the younger woman otherwise would have killed her right there. Arabella gasped for air and saw a shocked look pass over Libby's face. She seemed jolted. "You're supposed to be dead."

Arabella ignored the comment and swiftly picked up the knife she had dropped. Now was the perfect time to finish this mission, while the girl was vulnerable on the ground. Libby was scrambling to move away, pushing the sand up into the air in a small cloud around her, but she had little luck in that endeavor. With a lunge, she grabbed Libby again, yanking her up by the neck, holding her tighter and tighter, to the point that her lips were tinged blue. The woman wriggled in her arms, trying to get away from the knife that was moving closer, but without any luck.

She was not going to escape, not this time.

OOO

Jonathan was panicking. Arabella had Libby tight in her grip, the knife just inches from her throat. He pulled his gun and pointed it at her, trying to steady his shaking hand.

"Are you really going to try that? I would have thought you more intelligent than that," Arabella admonished, moving the knife close enough that it was grazing Libby's skin. His chest was tightening, constricting in fear.

"I'll kill you," he threatened. Behind Arabella, Charlie moved closer, pulling out a gun that he'd obtained during the battle. It seemed the woman had forgotten he was there.

"I'll kill her first. Either way she'll die."

Jonathan watched Libby's face, amazed at the serenity of it all. She was completely calm now and had stopped fighting back. Her face bore no expression, her eyes were closed. With every move, Arabella whipped her body around easily, as if a rag doll.

Charlie waved a hand, grabbing Jonathan's attention. With the gun, he indicated that he was going to shoot Arabella. Jon couldn't allow it- it would be too dangerous, especially if Arabella was to move. Libby was in danger of being shot. Not thinking about the implications of the action, he shook his head no.

Arabella whipped around, inadvertently dropping Libby to the ground. Instantly, both Jonathan and Charlie aimed their guns and shot once, twice, and then Jonathan a third time, for good measure.

The red haired woman stood, stunned. She looked down at the blood flowing from her wounds, touching it as if to see if it was real. She turned one last time to Jonathan, looking especially weak, the red of her hair bright against the white of her skin.

"I was supposed to be immortal…" she rasped. "You son of a bitch. You stole this from me." Staggering three steps toward Jonathan, she fell to her knees, and then hit the sand one final time.

Charlie rushed over to Arabella, holding his shoulder. He flipped her over, gun still pointed at her in case she should attack. Holding a hand over her face to check for breathing, he looked up at Jonathan. "She's dead."

"You alright, old boy?" Jonathan asked.

"That third bullet was a bit much, you know. Grazed my shoulder, but I'm just dandy."

Jonathan smirked sheepishly. "Sorry, old chap."

Charlie looked past him at the ground. "Jon, Libby hasn't moved." The boy looked genuinely concerned.

Dropping his weapons, he rushed to Libby's limp form, lying on the ground. There was no blood, no sign of injury as he lifted her up into his arms. "Go get my sister," he commanded. "I'll be right behind you."

Without a word or retort, Charlie dashed back down the dune, Jonathan following as fast as he could manage. "Hold on Libby-love," he said softly. "I'm going to try really hard not to drop you. But I can't make any guarantees."

He hoped that she could hear him, and get the humor of his last statement, because right now he was feeling like doing anything but laughing.

OOO

Evy put all the strength she had left in her into swinging the sword, easily dissecting another mummy. "Darling," she shouted at Rick. "I think it's time to retire."

"It's about damn time, Evelyn!" Rick shouted back. Taking a running start, he moved toward a mummy that wasn't paying attention to the battle. He prepared to feel the force of the sword entering the mummy, but he didn't.

In fact, he just kept running a short distance, before he stopped himself. Looking around, he saw that the mummies were gone. Left on the battlefield were the Medjai and Arabella's dead mercenaries. But the undead legionnaires had disappeared.

"What the hell?" Rick muttered.

"I am not sure my friend," Ardeth replied. "But they are gone, and I pray that it means that Arabella has been killed."

"EVELYN! BAY! O'CONELLL!" Charlie was screaming as he ran down the dune toward the altar, pushing aside warriors and leaping over corpses.

The boy was gaining speed as he ran, and Rick grabbed him right as he was about to hit the altar. "Slow down. What happened?"

"We killed… Arabella's dead, but… Libby… Libby is sick or hurt or something." Charlie was gasping for breath.

"Where is she?" Rick said, worried. "Where's my sister?"

"Jonathan is… he's bringing her back here now."

Rick made to move, but Evelyn grabbed his arm. "Wait. Jonathan shall be here in a moment. Look, you can see him coming. Have some bloody patience. Libby will be fine."

Rick only hoped she was right.


	30. Epilogue: The Seventh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here lies the end of our adventure. I hope you all enjoyed the ending, as well as enjoyed reading the story. It has been a joy and a privilege to write it and share it with you all. I originally started writing this story in 2008, finished in 2009. I started moving this over in 2014(ish) and finally am finishing it now. I still contemplate a sequel to this, although it's been so long. Maybe someday? Thank you for reading, and please be sure to share your thoughts!

"Mmmm," he heard her sigh as she turned over in the bed, her hair falling across her face. Jonathan instantly sat up in his chair, sending it toppling over backwards. He felt his head crack against the floorboards of the guestroom. There'd be a lump there in the morning. Collecting himself, he stood up and moved closer to the bed where Libby was sleeping, pushing her hair back off her face.

He'd hoped the sigh had meant she was waking. She wasn't.

Jonathan couldn't help but worry. Evy had reassured him that it was just a combination of dehydration and exhaustion that caused her to pass out, not any permanent damage from Arabella, and the Medjai healer that traveled with Ardeth had confirmed it. Still, Jonathan couldn't push his fears completely aside. 

 _Bloody hell, she was out through the entire trip back to Cairo_.

That had been a remarkable feat, not to mention one of the most humiliating experiences of his life. Unconscious, Libby still rode a camel better than he did.

They had returned to the family's home in Cairo, now devoid of dead mercenaries and cleaned of the destruction that had occurred only two weeks ago. Since then, he spent most of his time waiting for Libby to wake. He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest. She was alive and he grateful for that. It was comforting to just sit here watching over her, even more so than the holstered gun on his belt. They might have checked, double checked, and triple checked that Arabella was dead before they cremated her body, but he was certain he wouldn't be sleeping easy for a while.

The sound of the door knob turning jolted him from his thoughts, sending his hand straight to the holster. "Who's there?" he demanded. Call him neurotic, but he was done taking chances.

"Jonathan, you idiot! Why the hell are you locked in the bedroom with my sister? Are you  _trying_ to get killed?" His brother-in-law began impatiently pounding on the door. "Open this right now or I'm just going to assume the worst. You know that's what I'm going to do!"

Jonathan quickly unlocked the four locks on the bedroom door. Three of said locks had been installed right after the incident at Ahm Shere. As soon as the fourth clicked, Rick pushed the door open, trapping Jonathan between it and the wall.

He peered around the edge and stared down at the gleaming gilded-gold locks. "Four? Four locks? Jesus Christ, how long has that one been up?

"Just put the fourth up this morning!"

Rick frowned, looking up. He had dark circles around his eyes, his hair a bit oily and unkempt. "You need to get out of this room."

"Absolutely not. I just want to be here when she wakes up, old boy. Maybe sweep her off her feet a little."

"First off, no feet sweeping while I'm around. She's still my baby sister. Two, please tell me Evy and I weren't like this after I killed Imhotep."

"Just a tad worse, chum. You rode off into the bloody sunset on a camel," Jonathan added to the banter, feeling jovial for the first time in days. "Sickening, just sickening. Why are you up here?"

"Oh, you know, there's this woman… her name is Libby, she just happens to be my sister," he paused. "Jon, we're all worried about her. Believe me, I haven't had a decent night's sleep since we got back, and I won't until she's wandering around making jokes about me and you again. But you can't just sit holed up in this room waiting for the dead to come back and hurt her. What's done is done, and now we just have to give her time."

Leaning against the wall, Jonathan wanted to disagree, but knew he couldn't. "So what do we do instead?"

"Well, we still have to settle things with Libby's hotel. Ardeth already said he'd come with me to see if there's anything left to salvage. You should come too. Get out of the house for a little while."

Jonathan glanced over at Libby's sleeping form on the bed.

"She'll be here when you get back. Let's go." It wasn't a question now. With one last look, he followed Rick out of the room.

OOO

Libby stretched her arms far over her head, turning over on the soft mattress. She ran her tongue over her lips. They felt dried out and cracked. Each move made her unused muscles ache, but she didn't care. This bed was lovely, with its feathers and thick blankets and pile of pillows, and she thoroughly intended on enjoying every moment of sleep.

 _Wait a second… bed? Aren't we in the…_  

She sat up quickly, feeling the blood rush to her head. It hurt, but she pushed the pain aside. The room was dark, with only a sliver of light shining through where the curtains didn't quire meet, and unnaturally clean. There were no dunes, no endless miles of sand covering hidden monuments. No Medjai warriors or dead mercenaries. No Jonathan.

She struggled to push the heavy blankets off and tentatively stood up, easing her feet slowly onto the floor. Libby felt surprisingly steady. She walked along the side of the bed, just to make sure she could move without faltering and stumbling. Her legs still worked. Always a positive.

As she wondered where she was, the room began to look more familiar. She knew this mahogany sleigh bed, the dusty artifacts that cluttered the shelves. She was in Cairo, in the guest room of Evy and Rick's house.

 _We beat Arabella! We must have!_ Libby thought, excitement filling her.  _Rick and Evy never would have left the desert if she was still alive._ Relief flooded her for the first time in weeks. They were safe again, and they could move on with their lives.

Moving on…

There was nothing holding her in Egypt now. The hotel… well, there was no chance of reviving that business endeavor. Rick and Evy would hardly allow her to live on the streets, not that Libby even considered that an option. The obvious choice would be to follow her brother back to England and live with him. And while there were some clear benefits (namely, Jonathan), she'd been living independently nearly her entire life. Was she really ready to give that up?

 _What are you thinking woman? Of course you are._ It was true. The past two weeks, though frightening, had been the most exciting and satisfying of her entire life. She'd had a family, people who cared for her, who were concerned for her well-being. There was no way she could give that up now.

"You're up! Thank God!" Libby jumped in surprise. She hadn't heard Evelyn enter the room, carrying a pitcher of water and some soup on a tray. The woman quickly put it down and wrapped Libby in a strangling hug. "And you're already walking around. You're lucky Jon isn't here, he'd toss you back into bed."

"I'm sure Rick would love that," Libby shot back with a smile.

"Oh, bugger, you know what I mean. ALEX! CHARLIE! Libby is awake!"

Outside the room, she heard two pairs of feet pounding on the floor up the stairs and the sound of shoving. Charlie entered the room first, his hair freshly cut and wearing new clothes. He waved awkwardly. It was evident he still didn't know how to behave within the group.

"AUNT LIBBBBBBBBYYYYYYYYYY!" the younger boy shouted, launching himself at her. Evelyn quickly moved between Alex and his aunt.

"Darling, your aunt just woke up. You're not to kill her today."

"But he can kill me tomorrow?" Libby asked with a smirk.

"I liked you better asleep," Evelyn deadpanned. Looking at each other, the two women broke into a fit of giggles. "Why don't you get cleaned up? I'll get you some of my clothes to wear. Then you can come downstairs with Alex, Charlie, and I. We're doing a little work…"

OOO

She spent a good hour in the hot bath that Evelyn had drawn her. As the steam rose around her, she let the tears fall for Kaysar, whom Evelyn had gently informed her had been killed.  Libby knew the boy had been proud to be a part of something more… she only wished he’d had something better after.

When the redness of her tears had faded away, Libby walked slowly down the stairs into the dining room where the rest of the family was sitting. Evelyn was pouring over papers, shuffling them methodically, as she sent Charlie in and out of the library on a search for textbooks she needed. Libby was surprised to see how happily the boy obliged Evelyn's every request. There was hope for him yet.

Alex was reading. "New book Alex?" she asked.

"South American pyramids. They're pretty interesting, not many of them have been explored yet," he replied, turning the page. "I'm going to be the first."

"Just don't raise any South American mummies, alright?" Libby replied with a smile as she took a seat, as well as the cup of coffee that one of the maids offered her.

"I make no promises." Libby smiled. Of course he didn't.

Evelyn sighed, rubbing her forehead. "What's the matter?" Libby asked, lighting a cigarette.

"Something… something has been bothering me since we returned home," Evy said, pushing her papers aside.

"Did something happen to Jon or Rick?" Libby asked quickly. She hadn't even thought to inquire about their whereabouts.

"Oh no!" Evelyn rushed to reassure her. "No, they're fine. They went to see what remained of your hotel. No, it's really quite silly."

"I'm sure it isn't. What is it?" Libby was concerned. What had happened?

"The seventh scorpion… it's still out there somewhere. And until we find it, we can't de… destroy… oh bugger, I still can't say it. It's killing me that we have to destroy the scorpions. They're priceless. Who knows what we could learn from them? They belong in a museum and not…"

"And not in the hands of a psychopath bent on destroying the world," Libby interjected gently, reminding Evelyn of what they had come so close to losing. As much as she'd come to love her sister-in-law, she definitely had issues with her priorities. "There are plenty of other tombs to be discovered, Evy. These little guys need to go the way of your buddy Imhotep. Straight to hell."

"I know, I know. I'm trying to translate this last clue, but just can't figure it out. These hieroglyphs are not in a single one of my books. They don't even look remotely like classical Egyptian hieroglyphs. How will we ever find the final one? We can't destroy them until all seven are united!"

Libby took the etching of the clue that Evelyn was attempting to read. She looked it over. The mix of curves and lines were unrecognizable, and contained none of the familiar images that graced the facades of the pyramids. "Maybe it's better that we don't find the last one? If it's lost to time, then there's no chance anyone will find it."

"It's an option," Evelyn replied, taking a book from Charlie as he reentered the room. "But what if someone discovers the seventh? It's only a matter of time before they realize we have the other six."

Libby understood all too well. "Well then. We best get to work and find where the last little bastard is, shouldn't we?"

OOO

"So when do you plan on leaving Egypt, my friends?" Ardeth asked, sitting comfortably in the back seat of Rick's car. Having successfully put the piece of property where the hotel once stood on the market, they were now nearing Rick's home. It was a rare moment between the three men, one where they did not have weapons drawn and ready.

"Soon as Libby is up and walking about again," Rick replied, sharply turning the steering wheel into the driveway. Ardeth watched in amusement as Jonathan slammed into the passenger side door.

"This is why you should let me drive Rick! You'll give me a sodding concussion one day!"

Rick looked to Ardeth for support, but found none. "It is quite disconcerting, O'Connell, that Jonathan drives better drunk than you do sober."

The happiness that had predominated the past few days with the O'Connells had come as a welcome change. Of course, among his people, there were moments of joy and laughter, but these moments were almost always tempered by some underlying worry. Would the group of men on patrol arrive home safely? Would they find a new water source before the current was depleted? Here, among the O'Connells, Ardeth Bay had discovered the capacity to let his guard down.

Rick screeched the car to a stop, sending Ardeth flying forward. Jonathan grabbed him by the back of his robes, preventing him from imminent death through the front window. "Never again will I drive with you, O'Connell," he muttered as he exited the car.

On the front steps of the house, Evy and Alex stood waiting, looking remarkably suspicious. "Hello, darling husband of mine!" Evelyn shouted to them as she descended the steps.

"What did you do?" Rick asked suspiciously, voicing the question that had been running through Ardeth's head.

"We have a surprise for you!" she said excitedly. "Charlie!"

The red haired boy appeared through the door, leading a now-awake Libby. Ardeth felt himself breathe a sigh of relief that the woman had recovered. Now he felt he could return to his people. He hadn't wanted to go far from the O'Connells until Libby woke, in case her condition got worse and they needed the Medjai healer.

"LIBBY!" Jonathan shouted, sounding like a small child seeing their favorite relative. He shoved aside all those who stood between him and the door out of his way to get to her. Ardeth watched as he pulled Libby into his arms and kissed her soundly.

Somewhere nearby, he heard Rick whisper to Evelyn, "I will  _not_ be dealing with this all the time."

Deep inside, Ardeth felt the slightest twinge of jealousy towards Jonathan. He was not in love with Libby, of that he was absolutely certain. But being chieftain of the Medjai had not allowed time for romance. Seeing what Libby and Jonathan, Rick and Evelyn shared made him feel slightly bitter. Still, duty reigned over all, and he would fulfill his duty until the day he died.

"What are you doing outside?" Jonathan said once he realized that she was still on the front stoop. "Back to bed until you're fully recovered, love!" He easily picked her up, hauling her into the house. Ardeth saw Libby's face, mixed with shock and annoyance at being babied.

"Jonathan! You put my sister down! Right now!" Rick shouted, running behind his brother-in-law. "I swear if you step one foot in that bedroom, you're going to be a dead, dead man!"

Charlie hesitated before entering the house, giving Ardeth the chance to speak with him alone, for which he was glad. He was slightly concerned for what the red-haired boy would chose to do next in his life. In Charlie, like in Kaysar, he saw shades of Rick and himself, and the potential to be a great warrior. Ardeth did not wish to see that wasted.

"Have you decided what you will do next?" he asked Charlie, taking him by surprise.

"I think I'm goin' to England. Rick and Evelyn said I could stay with them 'til I get on my feet, and I'm thinkin' of taking them up on that offer. No more runnin' for me, and no more takin' over the world. One near sacrifice is really enough for a lifetime."

"Surely it is," Ardeth replied, satisfied with Charlie's answer. Evy and Rick would ensure Chalrie had a chance to escape the life he had known.

With the knowledge that everything in Cairo had been settled, and that everyone in time would recover fully, Ardeth began preparations to return to his people. He'd been away from home far too long.

OOO

"Machu Pichu, a citadel in Peru, was discovered by Hiram Bingham in 1911…" Libby heard Alex read to her. She'd hoped pretending to be asleep would get him to go away. She was wrong.

When Jonathan had sent her to bed (and oh, how he was going to pay for bossing her around!), Alex had quickly volunteered to read her a story. Libby couldn't deny the kid anything, and figuring he would pick something amusing, she agreed. She quickly began to regret that decision. Apparently Evelyn's idea of a bedtime story was quite different than most normal people, because Alex was reading to her from his book on South American pyramids.

"I think Libby's asleep old boy," Jonathan said softly. Peeking through her tightly shut eyelids, she saw him leaning against the doorway, looking debonair as ever. "Why don't you head to bed? You can read her more tomorrow."

"Alright Uncle Jon!" She heard Alex leave the room and the door creak shut.

"You can open your eyes now, you faker," Jonathan said, taking a seat on the bed next to her. He wrapped an arm around her and she kissed him softly.

"Faker? I believe what Alex was reading to me qualifies as torture. I had to escape somehow. Give me the book! I will show you how awful it was."

Flipping through the pages, Libby couldn't find quite the right page that Alex has read from. She was determined to prove to Jonathan how dry and boring the book was, and she was pretty sure that passage counted as a prime example. She slowed down, examining each page in hopes of finding what Alex had read. It was then that one of the photographs caught her attention.

The tall, thin piece of stone sat in the middle of a black and white jungle. Dense vegetation surrounded it, some vines creeping upwards, beginning to cover all the evidence that humans had ever been in the area. The photograph itself was very old and slightly blurry. But there was no mistaking what Libby saw.

The stone was covered in writing from top to bottom. Lines and curves, they were a perfect match to the etching of the final clue. There was no mistaking it. Somehow, someway these South American hieroglyphs had made their way to Egypt. Somehow the scorpion had made its way across an ocean. Whomever had hidden it must have been ingenious, to figure out such a way to cross the Atlantic Ocean in a time before steamboats and airplanes.

"You forget how to read, Libby-love?" Jonathan asked. She didn't reply, trying to decide whether or not she should share her revelation. To find the final scorpion would mean they could destroy them and assure the world would be safe. Still, she highly doubted that many within the general population would ever see this picture and ultimately connect it to the scorpions. Besides, they had just barely survived this adventure. Was it really so wise to start a new one?"

"Libby, do you feel ill? Do you want me to leave?" Jonathan asked again softly, moving off the bed.

Snapping the book shut and tossing it onto the floor, Libby grabbed him by the arm and tugged him back onto the bed. "Don't you dare even think about leaving this bed."

Jonathan smirked, rolling over and trapping her under his body. "Be careful what you wish for, love."

"Oh shush, you idiot. I'm sick, remember? You told me I had to go straight to bed and rest. This does not count as rest," she teased, feeling more alive than she ever had.

He kissed her, long and lingering, one hand brushing her hair away from her face while the other held him up. "Would you think me ridiculous if I said I was falling in love with you?"

"No. But we've only known each other for two weeks, Jon. Let's give it time, see where this goes before we say it."

He smiled. "Why not? We've got plenty of time to figure things out." He paused. "Sleep now. We'll talk more in the morning."

That they would, Libby decided as Jonathan pulled her against his chest. One thing that would not be coming up in that conversation, however, was the picture in Alex's book. Adventure could wait, as could saving the world. The world would be alright for the time being.

Libby had much more important things on her mind. Namely, one Jonathan Carnahan. And the adventure that came with falling in love with him, in Libby's opinion, would be more than enough to occupy her time.


End file.
